


Plus Ones

by pendrogon



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Pining, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendrogon/pseuds/pendrogon
Summary: It starts because Leonard needs a date, so really, it’s all Leonard’s fault. By night, Leonard works late shifts at the hospital with Jim. By day, he shakes hands and introduces Jim as his boyfriend. Most mind boggling of all is that people believe him. But the thing is, even great friendships break under the pressure, and they’ve been piling it on since they met.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I probably messed with canon a lot pls utilize suspension of disbelief  
> also this has been in the works for months and I finally got around to editing. all finished I just have to stop being lazy

He's an idiot, is what he is.

Scowls down at the email confirmation. Scowls harder. Plus one. Idiot.

Jim peers over his shoulder and whistles. "Got a back-up yet?"

Leonard turns his scowl to him. "What back-up?"

"The back-up date. For when the first date ditches you before the date."

Leonard furrows his eyebrows, closing the email on his phone and scowling at a new one. "People don't do that."

With a laugh, Jim takes a bite of his pizza and shakes his head. "All right. I appreciate your ever-optimistic view on humanity--"

"Optimistic?"

"--but they absolutely do."

"Since when am I optimistic?"

Jim's eyes are twinkling as he meets Leonard's gaze. “You’ve seriously never needed the back-up?”

It’s lunch his lunch of a Thursday night. Leonard’s got a salad, untouched, sitting on the table in front of him, his phone in hand as he scrolls past emails he’s not looked at in a week.

But it’s late, and Leonard’s exhausted, and just wants five minutes to not think about the damn wedding, or the fact that it’s been nearly ten years and all he has to show for himself is a slight raise, a few extra pounds, and a new best friend in the form of Jim Kirk, proud serial dater by day, pharmacist by night, where he sits with Leonard on breaks and needles him about why he’s so grouchy all the time.

Best friends, though, that’s a hard one to explain. You spend your entire life bare-bonesing it on the night shift, you don’t get to choose the friends you make. You get what you get, and you’re welcome for it.

Not that Leonard would really change it, given the change.

“What are you talking about, Jim?”

Jim gestures to Leonard’s phone. “You have a second date lined up, right? And a third?”

He’d barely had one. Carol had dumped him, last minute, just weeks ago, and while Leonard wants to think he’s over it—he’s had the nightly heart-to-hearts with Jim, he’s cleared out Carol’s things and taken a day or two to consider her the spawn of the devil himself—really, he’s just aching a little for going to his ex-wife’s wedding single after what he’d thought was an okay relationship.

He feels really bad about the time he spent calling Carol a bitch, now. She didn’t do anything wrong. Chasing your own happiness isn’t inherently against anyone else.

“All right,” Jim says, after a few moments of silence from Leonard. “Okay, Bones, seriously?”

There’s that damned nickname again. Leonard frowns at Jim from across the table. “What?”

“You can’t go to that wedding alone. They’ll eat you alive.” Jim gives him a soft look, one Leonard’s never seen on him before. “You might want to reconsider.”

That’s all he’s wanted to do. Instead, he’s sitting here with this stupid email open, frowning at it. The wedding’s this weekend. He could just not show up, but he’s RSVP’d. He’s been through the wedding thing once, he remembers how pissed he was when people that RSVP’d yes didn’t show up. No excuse, just didn’t show.

He sighs, tosses his phone on the table. “Yeah, already did. They got an open bar, I’ll make do.”

If he’s gotta be stuck at his ex’s wedding for an indeterminable amount of time, at least he can take the edge off with whiskey and bourbon, right?

“Come on, Bones. Screw her! Let them absorb the cost of a twelve dollar plate of dry steak that no one’s going to eat anyway. I thought you said you guys were miserable together?”

“We were.”

“Then you don’t owe her anything!”

No, he doesn’t. But he owes himself, doesn’t he? To remind him of what it was like, with her, so he doesn’t go getting any ideas that he had it good, once upon a time. He might not be happy, alone, but better than being miserable with her.

Besides, he’d like to see her happy. She was a good woman to him, once. He hopes she’s got that back, with someone who can be good to her, in turn.

“Okay, fine. Then I’m going with you.”

“What? No.” Absolutely not, Leonard thinks. Jim’s good in crowds, and with people, but it doesn’t mean he’s willing to drag Jim across the country to be his plus-one.

“Why not? You need a date. Seems pretty cut-and-dry to me, here. I’ll switch my weekend shift with Uhura, it’ll be fine.”

Desperate to get him off track, Leonard says, “And how’s it going with Nyota, anyway?”

Jim sighs, dreamily if a little disappointed. “Still immune to my charm. You know—“

Leonard tunes out, glaring at his phone as he continues eating his lunch. Jim doesn’t say another word about the wedding, so he considers the topic closed.

Until Saturday, 5:30 in the morning, when Leonard wakes up to Jim pounding on his door, calling through it for Leonard to let him in.

It’s raining, because of course it is, but Jim’s still standing on his steps with a bright smile. He’s wearing sunglasses, because of course he is.

“Jim,” Leonard says, flatly. He steps aside, letting Jim in to drip rain water all over his floor. “What are you doing here?”

“Your flight’s at 8, right?”

“8:20.”

“Even better. You packed yet?”

“Why are you here, Jim?”

Jim looks at him as he’s twisting water out of his shirt over the sink. "I'm your date," he says, like it makes the most perfect sense in the world. "I already got a cab, let's go."

Leonard stands, speechless for a moment. He means to tell Jim off, to send him back home and go to the wedding on his own. Jim has no place, none, to assume it's all right to come with.

But those words aren't the ones that come up. The words he says are, "You're gonna get the cab all wet," and Jim, damn him, just smiles.

\-----

"Good thing I came," Jim says once they’re on the plane, while Leonard's got his head between his legs, angry and disgusted. The world spins too much, and Leonard's exhausted, and nervous. Jim's hand is warm on his back, distracting him from the booming voice of the captain over the intercom. "You always this unprepared for flights?"

Thing is, Leonard's taken a grand total of three flights. Only when necessary, when cross-country driving isn’t feasible. Man wasn't meant to fly, and if he was, they’d have figured it out back during the fire and the wheel. "Hate flying," he says, through his teeth. His stomach rolls.

"We could have drove.”

Jim's voice isn't amused, or pitying; none of that that might make him more upset. Just gentleness, smooth and calm and understanding. Leonard's resentment towards Jim forcing himself to come along suddenly turns into thankfulness. "Didn't wanna drag it out." And Carol liked flying. He adds that, too, that he’d booked the flight before she broke it off and doesn’t want to waste the money. Flights aren’t cheap, and Leonard has better things to do with his money.

"You're a good man, Bones," Jim says. His fingers feel nice and cool on the heat of Leonard's back. Leonard really hopes he doesn't pull away.

"Thanks for coming, kid."

And that's the end of that.

Leonard does get sick, once they land, but Jim's good then, too. Comes well equipped to take care of him. "Thought you're supposed to be the doctor here," Jim says, as he hands over anti-nausea pills with a grin. Leonard’s skin’s cool and clammy, and his hair's sticking to his forehead. Looks like a mess, but he can’t help it. He takes the pills gratefully, swallowing them dry, and nods in thanks. "Hotel? What time's the ceremony?"

"Five."

"In town?"

At a tiny church on the edge of town, Leonard says. The world's starting to reset itself. "Gonna check in at the hotel, first." And take a shower. And an anti-anxiety, maybe, if he remembered to pack it.

Damn is he glad to be back on solid ground. His legs feel like jelly, but Jim’s kind enough to stabilize him with a hand to his back, anyway, and doesn’t make Leonard feel like an old man doing it, either.

"We're on our honeymoon," Jim tells the cab driver, grinning wildly, reaching for Leonard's hand. He has half a mind to pull away, but Jim’s grin is blinding, and the cab driver’s already asking questions about how long they’ve been together by the time Leonard can even open his mouth. And any time Leonard tries to but in, Jim pats him on the leg and tells him to relax.

Which is good, because Leonard’s all sorts of sick from the car, and the plane, and opening his mouth really isn’t a great idea.

At the hotel, though, all bets are off. Leonard pulls his bag out of the trunk and asks, a side-glance to Jim as he does, ”What the hell was that?"

"What? Testing it out. Seeing how it feels. Newlyweds a little much?" He’s already agreeing with himself, nodding as he slams the trunk shut and pats it with his free hand. “Yeah, I thought that could read a little bad since we never invited them to our wedding. But long-term, right? Six months or more? Are you thinking of asking me to marry you, or am I?"

Leonard’s head starts spinning again. He’s not sure if this is another one of Jim’s plans he’d failed to tell Leonard about, or if he’s just been this dense about his own love life. He opens the door to the lobby and asks, “What—since when are we dating?"

He doesn’t get an answer until after they’ve checked in, down the hall from the front desk.

“We’re faking it,” Jim says, in the room, like this makes all the sense in the world.

Leonard shakes his head, throws his bag on the bed, and says, “I’ve got no damn idea what you’re talking about, but if this—”

"Romantic comedies do this all the time," Jim interrupts, already moving back to Leonard’s side. He sets his hands on either of Leonard’s arms and smiles, bright, right at Leonard’s face. Bastard. Does he know what that does to Leonard, or is he just hoping? "We pretend to be a couple. It’ll work like a charm. Weekend'll be behind you before you know it."

Like just being here wasn't stressful enough, now he has to sell a pretend relationship between himself and Jim? "No."

Jim pulls a face. ”You are no fun, Bones."

"So I've heard." He starts pulling off his socks and shoes. "I appreciate the thought, Jim, but—these are people that already judged me when I was marrying Jocelyn. They’re not gonna take kindly to me showing up with you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jim asks, “What, homophobic? You don’t owe them, either. Fuck them.”

He says it so easy. Not for the first time, Leonard wonders what Jim’s family life has been like. Leonard’s not exactly close with his own family, but he loves them. Jim—he’s not sure he’s ever heard Jim talk about his parents, or anyone else, in his life. Must be easy for him to say that, then.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?” He sighs. “Look, hey, you don’t want me there, I’ll just stay at the hotel. But you’re tellin’ me you’re really interested in the third degree from these people that didn’t even like you the first time around?”

He just looks at Jim, frowning. Uncertain. Jim sighs, runs a hand over his face. Leonard’s not sure he can explain this, in simple terms. This desperate need to show Jocelyn, her family that never believed in him or them, that he turned out all right. Which is easy to accomplish on his own, but Leonard’s not interested in having absolutely no one on his side. Hours of wedding festivities, and he’s supposed to stand there and not make an ass out of himself, alone?

Leonard rolls his eyes. “All right, you made your point.”

Jim’s like a damn puppy, then, all grin. If he had a tail, Leonard thinks, it’d be wagging. “You won’t regret this, Bones,” he says, and disappears into the bathroom.

Leonard watches him go with a frown. He’s really not too sure about that.

——-

The anxiety spikes again, in spite of the Xanax, when he and Jim get to the church. Lots of people are milling about the churchyard, laughing and drinking champagne. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, and he’s sweating, pulling at his tie when Jim’s hand rests on the small of his back. Comfortable, in spite of the heat spreading to all of Leonard’s extremities. He nods, surges forward. He’d gotten them a gift off Jocelyn’s registry, had the clerk at the store wrap it, and scribbled his - and Jim’s - names on it just before they left.

Jim picks up one of the cards, and snorts. “‘Your marriage gives me hope in humanity’—Jesus.” He laughs. “I’m all for being cheesy, but come on.”

Leonard leaves the gift on the table in the church, leaves Jim with the greeting card, and heads towards the bathroom.

This was the biggest fucking mistake he’s made in his life. Even marrying Jocelyn had its merits, though it wasn’t so easy to see them. But this, this is just idiotic. What’s he got to prove? His own happiness? He’s not happy. He’s nothing close to happy.

He inhales, rests his hands on the sink and white-knuckles the edge. 

He can still leave. No one’s seen him, and if they have, he thinks he can deal with the embarrassment. They don’t know him anymore. Hell, he’ll be the story they laugh about in a few years. Jocelyn’s ex-husband that couldn’t handle seeing his ex-wife get married again, and ducked out before the ceremony.

Someone enters after a few moments, just peeks their head through the door and peers inside. Leonard doesn’t have to look to know who it is. He steps in, closes the door behind him, and stands there.

“Hey,” he says, soft.

Leonard just nods.

A beat, then, where Jim stands there and looks like he doesn’t know what to do, and then he smiles. “Hey, look! It’s fine! You’re already here, you know? It’ll be way more humiliating if they found out that you came, saw them, and left.” He steps forward, pulls a few paper towels out of a box on the wall, and dabs at Leonard’s face and neck. “Deep breaths, Bones.”

He listens. Inhales through his nose, out his mouth, and tugs at his tie again. Jim, still, wipes at Leonard’s neck and pulls his hand away from his tie when he tries to yank it off. “All about appearances, Bones. You hold it together until we’re out of here, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

Jim’s like a natural, Leonard notes. He wets paper towels in the sink, now, presses them against Leonard’s burning face. “They really do a number on you, don’t they?”

“I haven’t seen these people in years, Jim, and I probably never will again. And I’m in the bathroom, having a damn anxiety attack.”

“That’s the best excuse, Bones!” Jim replies. “Embarrass yourself, make out with the groom, come on to her sister—you’re just ‘the weird guy at Jocelyn and Robert’s wedding’ in ten years.”

“First of all,” Leonard says, already grumbling, “that works for you, and second, I wouldn’t just be the weird guy. If I did any of that, I’d be the story about Jocelyn’s crazy ex-husband that ruined their wedding.”

Jim lets it drop, and after a moment, pulls the towels away. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

Jocelyn’s been the source of a lot of his anxiety over the past ten years. Between the beginning of their marriage, where Leonard could do no wrong, and the end of the divorce, where asking for his family heirlooms was him being selfish and cruel, Leonard’s surprised he came out of it alive. A little worse for wear, sixty grand in the hole, and with a few new anti-anxiety meds, but he survived.

“Bones,” Jim says, his voice soft. “She’s turning you into a wreck, and you haven’t even seen her. You can’t let her do this to you.”

He grips Jim’s shoulder, squeezes tightly, and nods, once. “Yeah.”

“I can pull this off,” Jim says, when they’re out in the hallway. “If you want to stick around. It’s not my first time, and look, it’ll take a lot of heat off of you to have someone with you.”

“And we’re gonna talk about that ‘not my first rodeo’ later—“

Jim snorts. He pauses, puts his hands in his pocket. “But I don’t know if I can watch you do this to yourself.”

Leonard doesn’t want to do this to himself. It’s all in his head. He’s here to show support for his ex-wife, who mangled their life together with Leonard backing her up, to prove he’s moved on and wants her to be happy, that he wants to be happy, and it’s only fair. He still hasn’t seen anyone. He could leave. He can live, he thinks, without seeing Jocelyn get married again.

“Okay,” Jim says, touching his arm, gently. “Let’s get you home.”

“Len! You made it!”

Leonard frowns. If he never hears that name again, it’ll be too soon.

“I did RSVP, you know,” Leonard says, turning to look at Jocelyn as she steps down the hall with her dress raised above her calves.

She’s beautiful, of course. Her makeup’s streaking, and she has wads of napkins stuck under her arms to soak sweat, but her smile’s wide and her dress looks great, with intricate beadwork and lace shoulders. Nothing like the plain white one she’d worn at their wedding.

“I know, but I’d been expecting an update that you couldn’t come.” She looks out of breath. “I would have understood, of course, you work so hard, and this can’t be the most ideal way to spend your weekend, but I’d hoped.” She looks briefly at Jim, who’s stepped back, before turning her attention back to Leonard. “I’m glad you made it.”

He doesn’t say anything, just leans forward and gives her a hug. It feels better than he’d ever thought it would that she hugs back.

As she pulls back, she says, “And who is this?”

“Jim Kirk,” Jim says, with all the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. “Boyfriend.”

Leonard feels his face flush again, and clears his throat. Waits for the blastwave—but it doesn’t come. Nothing falls apart in front of him. Jim is all smiles, bright eyes, soft touches, and Jocelyn—she was an awful wife, he was an awful husband, but she can shine when she wants to.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet!” Jocelyn shakes his hand. “You don’t seem much like Len’s type.”

But Jim handles that like a pro, too. “Really? Everyone back home says just the opposite.”

He tells her they’ve been friends for years, helped each other through everything, and Jocelyn eats it up. Jim’s a good storyteller; a good liar. He’s got to start putting more faith in Jim. He acts like a child, maybe, but he comes through when it counts. He’s watched Jim in his prime at work; he should know better.

Just shows how much this has gotten him all screwed up, if he’s doubting Jim’s ability.

“I’m really glad you came,” she tells Leonard again. “Really. I want us to be friends, you know, and I feel awful, really, terrible about how I acted during our split.” She sighs, her eyes shining with tears again. “I know we weren’t very good for each other, but I behaved unbelievably. I hope you can forgive me.”

Someone comes rushing down the hallway, calling for her—Marjorie, her best friend from college, and her maid of honor for the second time—and she picks up her dress and turns to head back down the hallway without another word. “We’ll talk later!”

Jim waits a moment, and then says, in the silence while Leonard’s still staring down the hallway, “We never signed the guestbook.”

That breaks him out of his daze. “Leonard McCoy and guest,” Leonard tells him. He’s more interested in taking a seat. Ideally, in the rental they took here.

“Romantic,” Jim replies, deadpan, as they’re walking back towards the front of the church, where the presents are piled.

“Just what part of this had you hoped to be romantic?”

Jim picks up the pen and signs their names with a flourish—Leonard notes he’s written ‘date’ instead of guest. “Oh, Bones. There’s a lot of romance to be had.” He turns to smile, then, and tugs on the bottom of Bones’ tie. “Just calm down.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Why’s this bug you so much? Look where you are! Best damn doctor in the world, with a hell of a life and the best friend a guy could ask for.” He pats Leonard’s chest. “You’re pretty blessed, you know.”

“Boyfriend,” Leonard corrects, unthinkingly, losing himself in the blues of Jim’s eyes, the ease of his smile, like he’s a cliche in a romance novel. Better that they keep this up, right? “Best boyfriend in the world.”

“I—“ And wow, does Jim’s smile go softer. More intimate, and his fingers twitch against the fabric of Leonard’s shirt. He can feel the brush of Jim’s fingers against his chest, dulled but still enough to send sparks of heat through him. “Maybe there’s a romantic hidden away in you after all.”

——-

“Are you crying?” Leonard asks Jim after the ceremony. About halfway through, while Jocelyn was saying her vows, Jim had pulled the box of tissues out of the cubby on the pack of the pew in front of them. Initially, Leonard had thought, Nice touch, and wrapped his arm around Jim’s shoulders in a gesture of solidarity. But the wedding party’s out of the church hall, and everyone’s turned away from them, and Jim’s eyes are still watering.

“I cry at weddings, okay?” he says quietly. “It’s, you know. Unnecessarily romantic. Absolutely fucking terrifying,” he adds, with a meaningful look at Leonard, “but you know.” He pauses. “Yeah, well. I guess you do know.”

There are tear streaks down Jim’s face, and Leonard has this bizarre thought to wipe them away. Any other time, he’d convince himself to step back, but they’re supposed to be in love—or dating, anyway, so he reaches forward and does it. That hard, defensive look in Jim’s eyes disappears.

“No,” Leonard says, drawing his thumb across Jim’s cheekbone. “It’s, uh. It’s just that she’s my ex-wife, so—”

“And you’re the heartless bastard of an ex-husband,” someone says. “I’d heard you’ve switched teams. To a twinkie, no less.”

Jim frowns as he looks past Leonard towards the aisle. “Sorry,” he says, “I don’t think I know you.”

The man grunts. “Jocelyn’s father. You must be Leonard’s date.”

“Partner,” Jim says flatly, as Leonard says, “Yes, sir.”

Jocelyn’s father looks between the two of them, then grunts again. Leonard’s heart’s beating hard against his chest. “Well. I hope you know what you’re getting into with this one. Not in for the long haul, in case you didn’t know. But—“ He looks between the two of them. “Soiling my girl’s day with this.” He waves an arm between them. Leonard can feel Jim getting angry beside him, and hopes he’ll calm down before he says something stupid. He scoffs, and leaves, and Leonard sighs shakily.

“He was your father in law?” Jim asks, through his teeth. Leonard can hardly believe it himself. This is the same man who used to tell Jocelyn he’d never amount to anything. That he’d leave her for someone hotter, younger. And, well, in his eyes, Leonard’s not sure that that’s not exactly what it looks like. Jim is younger, there’s no hiding that. He could see it being looked at like a midlife crisis.

“Come on,” Leonard says, helping Jim to his feet. “Let’s go meet the happy couple.”

Jocelyn’s smiling, crying as she stands in line, hugging her parents and shaking hands. Robert’s quiet next to her, stiff and solemn, and maybe it’s shitty, but Leonard’s first through is, this is the guy she’s in love with?”

Jim, bless him, he’s a lifesaver. He stands in the line first, takes Jocelyn’s hands and smiles at her widely. “Congratulations. You look beautiful. Radiant. And,” he says, “Robert doesn’t look half bad either.”

Robert snorts, but doesn’t look offended. Jocelyn starts crying again, and shakes Jim’s hands. “Thank you! Aren’t you a sweetheart!”

“Best of wishes,” he says, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. He moves along to Robert, actually managing to get the guy to give him a hug, one armed, and Leonard watches him beeline for the side-doors after. Wishes he could follow, but he sucks it up and congratulates his ex-wife before he does.

“Oh, Len,” she says, her voice soft. “Look at you.”

“Me?” he asks, trying to laugh and failing. “Look at you, gorgeous.”

“Thanks for coming, again,” she says, when he moves in for a hug. She kisses his cheek, soft, gentle.

“Thank you,” Leonard says, and means it. “Congratulations.”

That last ribbon of hatred still sitting in Leonard’s chest unwinds and unfurls, and when he turns back to glance at her, she’s smiling at Robert like she’d never smiled at him, and Leonard thinks, maybe, that’s why he’s here.

A ball of emotion forms in the back of his throat, so Leonard turns away, intending on finding Jim and maybe heading downstairs to eat, but he barely makes it two feet out the door before someone grabs for his hand.

“Are you going to the reception, Leonard?” Jocelyn’s grandmother. Leonard smiles, pats her arm, and tries not to be obvious about how he’s looking for Jim. Of all of Jocelyn’s family, there are few that actually care about him, and Jocelyn’s grandmother is one of them that cares. Or cared, as the case may be. Leonard’d been a tough man to get through to. He won’t deny that.

The reception isn’t something he’d planned on. He’s on the edge of another anxiety attack without Jim on his arm, as it is, and at a reception—

“I’m not sure, ma’am.”

She nods. “Well, a shame we don’t have more time to catch up. I’ll be heading home, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Can I just say, dear… Jocelyn has never looked happier.”

It’s surprising to realize that that doesn’t actually hurt. Leonard nods. “That she does.”

“And you. I’ve worried about you. Working those long hours, no one to come home to…”

That, though; that does hurt. Because he doesn’t. He has Jim. He always has Jim, but not the way people think. Not the way he thinks he wants.

She looks at Jim, who’s standing by the garden and laughing with a group of people. “I’m not sure what type of person he is, but I’m glad to see that look about you, Len. I’m glad the two of you found your happiness.”

Leonard’s throat tightens. Happiness.

With Jim still preoccupied, Leonard makes his way back through the church and towards the river, where Jim can’t see him. Far enough away that the hum of music from the church isn’t too loud, but there aren’t people sitting on the vine-covered benches.

It’s cool, outside, with the wind blowing off the river. People laugh, pleased, as he passes through clouds of smoke and groups of people. He walks past all of them, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and ripping off his tie as he goes. Breathe, he tells himself.

He leans over the railing, right into the water. Remembers Jocelyn’s grandmother’s words in the back of his head. The hours weren’t the only reason he’s not with Jocelyn anymore, but it’s a good enough reason. And he's not going to find someone that wants to be with him, not with the hours he works, how often he’s on call. Work always, always will come first. No one in their right mind looks at him, how he lives his life, and says that’s a fulfilling relationship.

Leonard can’t even look at himself and consider it fulfilling.

And Jim, Jim who sleeps with anyone that gives him a second glance, maybe he’s got it right. No strings. Just an enjoyment of people, and mutual pleasure, and taking what you’re given. Maybe it’s less painful that way. To distance yourself. To keep yourself from wanting a relationship.

Look where that’s gotten him with Jim.

He stays for a while, staring down into the river, gripping the railing tight. Maybe it’s not Jim. Maybe it’s just the need, the want, to be close to a human. To love someone. To be loved by the same someone.

“There you are,” he hears Jim say from behind him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry,” he says, after clearing his throat. He still doesn’t turn away from the water. “Just--had to get out."

Nothing like feeling pathetic at your ex-wife’s wedding, he thinks to himself.

“We can head out,” Jim says. His voice is soft, and he rests his hand between Bones’ shoulder blades. “Think you sufficiently showed these people you’ve moved on.”

But he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to be able to see his ex happy, to be able to support her happiness even if their own divorce was awful and frustrating and soul-draining for everyone involved. Even if he’s not exactly happy himself.

He takes a deep breath of the salt-tinted air and leans forward on the railing as Jim’s hand falls away. The music from the church pumps faintly under his feet. He is happy, honestly, that Jocelyn is. They’d parted on bad terms, but he did love her. Even if he didn’t, she’s human. She deserves happiness.

Leonard can’t hold that against her, for finding it.

Jim doesn’t try to fill the silence, though, just leans over the railing himself and stares across the water. Leonard tries not to look directly at him—it’s always been like staring into the sun—but can see the way the sunset catches on the blonde of Jim’s hair, in the blue of his eyes. He’s handsome. Leonard wants to pull him against his chest, bury his nose in Jim’s neck until his heartbeat returns to normal.

“Jocelyn’s grandmother,” Leonard finally says, his throat dry now, “said something to me.”

“Yeah?” Jim doesn’t even pull his eyes away from the water, but Leonard doesn’t doubt he’s got his full attention. “Anything good?”

“Said she was glad Jocelyn and I both found someone,” he says, “even if that someone wasn’t each other.”

Jim smiles, and turns his face to Leonard, now. “Hey! That’s great news!”

Leonard raises his eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

“We’re selling it, Bones!” Jim says, turning around and leaning his back against the railing. He’s undone his tie just a little, and the top button of his shirt, and Leonard’s not strong enough to keep himself from wondering what it’d be like to run his tongue over Jim’s neck. “If you can lie to the grandmother, you might as well take home the trophy now.”

Leonard turns to look at him full-on, even though Jim’s looking over across the churchyard, at all the groups of Jocelyn and her new husband’s family laughing. The oranges and pinks of the sunset are still playing over Jim’s hair, which has long-since been ruffled from dancing and sweat, but he’s never looked better.

Six weeks, Leonard thinks. Six weeks since Carol left, and Jim’s been there with him every step of the way. It could just be rebound. Jim being there in a way that Carol wasn’t, couldn’t be. In a way Leonard didn’t let her. He swallows, eyes tracing the outline of Jim’s lips. Something pools in his stomach that makes him feel all wrong.

Sure, they’re pretending, but he’s crossing a line, isn’t he? Wishing that they weren’t pretending. That this was real.

His throat goes dry when Jim turns to look at him. His hand twitches on the railing, thinking maybe he should reach out and touch, when Jim’s lips twitch upwards and he leans forward, presses his lips against Leonard’s like he’s been doing it for years.

One of them makes a pleased little noised—Leonard can’t be sure it’s not his own, but he’s not really in a place to care. Jim’s mouth is soft and pliant under his own, and he snakes his arm around Jim’s waist, under his jacket, to pull him closer.

He’s thought about it, before. Since he’d met Jim. But he’s not sure there are people that have seen him and haven’t thought about kissing him. Wonder if he’s as mouthy with someone’s body pressed against his, with someone’s tongue in his mouth.

Jim grips at the collar of his jacket, slides a hand to the nape of Leonard’s neck, deepens the kiss for just a moment, and pulls back, so his chuckle just brushes his lips. “You’re good at that,” he says. “Can’t say I’m that surprised.”

His heart thumps in his chest. Jim’s cheeks are red, his lips just the slightest bit swollen from the kiss, and that feeling of longing makes its home in Leonard’s chest.

“Hey, Jim…” he starts, his voice quiet, when Jim keeps his eyes on his collar for a few minutes. He could tell him. After how he’s acted at the wedding, he’s got a pretty good idea how well he would take a real confession. Certainly well enough to know he’s not in danger of losing the friendship, at least. He wouldn’t have agreed if he thought it was wrong, right?

It’d be a hell of a lot less stressful if they were actually dating, too, Leonard’s not going to lie.

“We should head back inside,” Jim says, pulling away from Leonard before he can figure out how to say it. It’s not cold out, but Leonard’s disappointed by the chill that takes place of Jim's warmth. “They were headed to eat when I left.”

Leonard thinks they should stay here, talk about this, but he can see the look in Jim’s eyes. If Leonard pushes, he could lose a lot more than he can afford, here. Take it slow, he thinks. His lips are still tingling with the memory of Jim’s on them, and he can’t be stupid about this.

“Yeah,” he says, slowly. Jim’s already walking towards the church. “Right.”

——-

They eat, they dance, Jim brings him drinks and desserts and anything else he wants. He sits on Leonard's lap, presses in close and Leonard starts thinking around midnight that this whole thing was a terrible idea.

Not bringing Jim; it's great to have someone there that he knows, without a doubt, doesn't think he's the sole factor in why his marriage failed. Jim's good company, anyway, and Leonard would never take that for granted.

But the dating thing, yeah. That starts to sting, after a while, because Jim's so believable in his love. When Leonard asks, he says, "I've had a lot of practice."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Jim just flashes him a smile.

As the night goes on and more and more people leave, Jocelyn wanders from the arms of her new husband and back to Leonard.

"How's your night going?" she asks, settling in beside him. She looks flushed, Leonard notes, but happy. Pleased.

"About as well as you could expect," he says, with a smile. "I am at my ex-wife's wedding."

"And with quite a piece of candy on your arm," she says, nudging him. Leonard nods, following Jim as he slow-dances with one of Jocelyn's cousin's kids. "He's a hit, you know."

"Yeah, he is."

A few minutes of silence pass--Jim passes off one kid for another--and finally, Jocelyn sighs. "Len, don't make a girl ask."

"Ask what?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's bad manners not to dance with the bride."

Of course. Leonard stands, clears his throat, and makes a big show of asking for her hand to dance. She laughs--for a moment, Leonard's back when he was young and getting married, his bow tie scratching his throat, his feet burning from a 15 hour day, but he and Jocelyn are the last on the floor.

The moment lasts through the song, another slow-dance probably requested by Jim for the long line of children waiting for a dance with him. Leonard catches his eye, and Jim winks.

"You really love him," Jocelyn says, softly.

Not wanting to lie, Leonard says, "He's my best friend."

"That's clear as day." She looks at him, so long Leonard finally pulls his eyes away from Jim to look back. "I'm happy for you."

And she pulls him into a hug.

\-----

The next morning, Leonard wakes up to a text from an unknown number, and frowns at the screen on his cell phone.

It's a picture; not fantastic quality, but Leonard can still make out the two people. Him and Jocelyn, dancing last night, Jocelyn's head rested on his shoulder. Her dress is pinned up so she can dance, and Leonard's trying to figure out who, exactly, took it, when he gets another.

This one's of him and Jim, Leonard leading the two of them across the floor with a smile on his face. First in a while he's been smiling in a photo--whoever took them must have been waiting for it.

And Jim, oh. Leonard knows he's far gone on the kid, but he looks good. Tired, maybe, with his cheeks flushed and his tie abandoned in some corner, but good. His suit jacket's off, too, and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows, and Leonard's heart gives a pathetic little jump.

Leonard's been here before, in love with his best friend, but usually the love comes first. He and Jocelyn were close, when they were together, but Jo wasn't his best friend when they got together. Jim would be.

'Thought you might like these. Got your number from Jim, hope you don't mind. Robert'

Leonard, who's held nothing against Robert, suddenly feels a surge of gratitude towards him for this. He types off a quick message thanking him, and lays back on his bed. Jim's singing in the shower, loud and off-key, and Leonard's staring at the ceiling wondering what the fuck he's going to do.

He's an idiot, is what he is.


	2. Chapter 2

And just weeks later, Jim’s standing in his office, at Leonard’s desk, before their shift ends, hopeful, happy and Jim’s face falls and crumples when Leonard denies his request. "Come on! Please? They're vicious, and if I go alone, I'm not sure that I'll come back."

Leonard raises an eyebrow at him, crosses his arm after he signs off on a purchase request, and stares him down. "This really isn't making me wanna change my mind, kid.”

"I thought we were doing this thing," Jim says, his voice low, "that was like, mutually beneficial or whatever. I help you, you help me." Like some sort of fucked-up friends-with-benefits thing, Leonard realizes. In some way, he still ended up in a not-a-relationship with Jim. Necessity or not. "Come on, Bones. Please? I need you."

Fuck him, Leonard thinks, not unkindly, as Jim makes his eyes go wide and soft. He owes Jim, but he was thinking something a little more like a week or two of transferred vacation time. Not helping Jim out by being his fake boyfriend again.

It's different with family. Leonard had to prove to his ex-wife he was capable of moving on. Jim's lying to his whole family about this, and it could come back to bite him in the ass.

But Jim hardly seems concerned about that, when Leonard asks. "They didn't give a shit about me," he says. "Lying about who I'm dating really doesn't seem all that evil, in comparison." Something's nagging at him to ask for Jim to clarify, but Leonard knows Jim well enough to leave it alone.

It still feels all kinds of wrong to not tell him no. Lying's one thing, but this is lying to family, whether Jim feels like they are or not. "If you don't care about them," Leonard finally asks, "why bother going at all?"

Jim looks disappointed, like he shouldn't have to explain himself, but does say, "My niece. The only good one out of my entire family. Feel like if I don't show up to prove things can get better if you get the fuck out of the family, she'll throw her future away. And she's a smart kid, Bones. I don’t want her to waste her future trying to fix these people.”

Leonard sighs. Not sure if it's the pity or the love thing that has him saying yes.

They don't have to fly this time, at least, and Leonard'll get to sleep in his own bed afterwards. Jim drives the two hour trip early on a Saturday morning in June, Leonard scowling at his phone through his sunglasses while Jim sings--in-key, this time--along to Katy Perry.

"You aren't working," Jim says, after a few songs. "Seriously?"

"I'm approving time off," Leonard tells him. "Last minute requests for underlings that want to switch shifts." He doesn't tell him he'd been reading department reports just a few minutes ago. "But look, see? I'm done." He drops his phone in the cubby between the seats and stares out the windshield. "Not like this is much of a vacation."

"I'm hurt, Bones. Really, truly wounded."

"You're in the right hands, then."

Jim taps his fingers on the steering wheel, shuts off the music, and sighs. He puts the roof up and, just as Leonard's about to ask what's going on, Jim says, "Okay. I've been avoiding this. Just--it's tough, you know. Talking about my family."

Leonard doesn't say anything--but he gets it. Family can be difficult. There's no two ways about it.

"My mom, she's--good. She did her best, but after my dad, I don't think she had it in her anymore. And my brother--"

"You have a brother."

Jim grimaces. "In blood only. Spock's more of a brother than he is. But he's there, and he'll be there. It's his kid that's graduating. No idea how she came out of the Kirk family with her head screwed on straight, but I'm not going to argue it." He sighs again. "They're pretty brutal, Bones. Really. I don't see them, and I don't want to, and half the time I show up because of her or Natalie." He glances at Bones. "It'll be hell."

Leonard wants to tell him it meant a lot to have Jim at the wedding, that if he hadn't have been there, he may not have been able to take it. That he'll bet it'll work out the same, here. But Jim's fight or flight is already off balance, and Leonard knows better than to scare him away with expectations. So instead, he says, "I'm sure they're not that bad," knowing full well they are.

The thing is, Leonard realizes when they pull into Jim's brother's driveway, they are that bad. Jim's brother makes himself known not by the likeness to Jim, but by the screaming they can hear once they step out of the car.

Leonard doesn't get a chance to ask where it's coming from before a girl taller than either of them slams into Jim, laughing.

"Easy," Jim says, but some of the tension has leaked out of his shoulders.

"I can't believe you came!" she yells. She's wearing a graduation cap; Natalie. "Mom and Dad said you wouldn't be able to make it, but here you are!"

"I said I'd come, didn't I?" Jim's face goes a little dark. "I swear, my brother--"

"Hey, come on. You promised no fighting." Natalie points her finger at him, all traces of delight gone from her face. She's going to make waves, Leonard thinks, wherever she goes.

Seems to run in the family.

"Okay, fine, I'll keep my word." He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Catches sight of Leonard and perks again. "Right, right. Bones, this is my niece, Natalie. Natalie, this is Bones."

"Leonard," he interjects, reaching to shake her hand.

"Bones?" Natalie asks. Leonard sighs.

"He's a doctor," Jim says, turning to look at Leonard with bright eyes. Leonard tries not to look directly at him. "Best damn one I've ever seen, too."

Natalie looks between the two of them, and something seems to click in her head. "I'm sensing there's something going on between the two of you besides work."

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" But Jim seems subdued, here. Leonard's not sure if he should play the loving boyfriend or not. "Not that we're trying to hide it."

"Of course. Um. Dad'll blow a gasket, thought."

Jim doesn't seem to care much for his brother, though Leonard gets the impression that he tries. "Let him."

Natalie gives him a look, like she's disappointed. "Come on. This is my day, right? Don't make it harder for me."

Jim rolls his eyes, but relents. "All right, all right. I'll keep my homewrecking fingers out of the sandbox."

"Good. Leonard, you'll keep an eye on him, right?"

"Always have."

Jim actually looks touched, but he's not lying on that one. Natalie disappears off into the crowd of teenagers, and Jim stands there. Awkwardly.

"That it?"

"What?"

"You look like a fish outta water, Jim. Ready to go?"

Jim rolls his eyes again. "Real supportive."

"Come on. Five hours, we head home. Better deal than Jocelyn's wedding." He grabs Jim's shoulder, starts steering him towards the table with refreshments. Jim, though, stays quiet, even when people come up to them sounding surprised. "Jim? Is that you?"

He'll smile and shake their hands, and Bones has to carry the conversation, trying to recreate the lies Jim had told at Jocelyn's wedding, without Jim's input. Jim's good about it, if reserved. And Bones gets it, knows exactly why.

"What did they do to you?" Leonard asks, the next moment they're alone.

"What do you mean?"

Leonard sets his shoulders and stares Jim down. "You're flinching. Backing away from these people you say you've known your whole life. Jim, I know the signs of abuse, I’m a doctor.” And he sees it far too often. "What the hell happened here?"

"It wasn't them," he says, quietly. He reaches for Leonard's arm like it's grounding him. "Look, it's nothing. Really. I haven't seen these people since I was a kid, Bones, I don't know any of them anymore."

He flashes a smile, but it's different. Close, convincing, but Bones knows. But a woman that looks like Jim's walking towards them, and Jim's desperate, so Leonard lets it go.

"Jim," she says, approaching him with open arms. Jim's hand grips Leonard's arm tighter, but he does pull away for the hug. "It is so good to see you."

He's stiff when he gravitates back to Leonard's side. Leonard doesn’t even think about it when he wraps his arm around Jim’s lower back. "Had to see my niece graduate, didn't I?"

"Sam says he had a hell of a time tracking you down."

"Well, you know. Social media will get you every time."

This is a whole new side Bones has yet to see. Jim's toeing the line between cold and civility, like he treats the shitty parents yelling at their kids for getting sick. Leonard clears his throat, and nods to Jim’s mother, who seems to notice him for the very first time.

“Winona,” she says, bypassing the need for Jim to introduce them completely. “Jim didn’t mention that you were coming.”

“Leonard. A last minute decision, Ms. Kirk,” Leonard says, shaking her hand. "Good to meet you." He sets his hand back on Jim's lower back, then, and stares her down. Leonard's supposed to believe that these people aren't the cause of Jim's attitude right now, when Jim's never acted like this before? No. Leonard's got his eyes on everyone.

"Hmm. Looks as though I should have met you already. Tell me, have you kept my boy in line?"

Luckily for them, Natalie pulls them both away to meet someone, and Leonard's spared from asking. So is Jim, which is maybe more the blessing.

In line. No one can keep Jim in line. That's the beauty of him. Out of trouble, maybe, but Leonard's been doing that for anyone he can. In line. He snorts, to himself. Jim's slouching, making himself smaller, as they walk past groups of people, trailing Natalie.

"Adi," Natalie says, "this is my uncle, Jim."

"Oh! The pharmacist, right?"

Jim blinks, looking between the two of them. "Yeah, why?"

"Adi's my best friend, and she wants to go to school for pharmacology, but--you know, no one's around here to tell her about it, um. So. I thought maybe you could give her the insight no one else can?” Natalie smiles, widens her eyes the same way Jim does to Bones when he wants something, and Leonard sighs.

Runs in the family, then.

With Jim occupied, Leonard wanders into the house at Natalie’s direction for the bathroom. The house’s small, but well-organized. Well lived in, too. Leonard’s reminded of his own apartment, empty and minimalistic and lonely, no pictures on the wall and virtually no signs of anyone living in it.

He scrubs at his face with his hand and heads towards the bathroom, washes his face at the sink and stares in the mirror for a moment. Catches the bags under his eyes, how exhausted he is, and jolts when someone knocks on the door.

"Just a minute," he says, and wipes his face. When he heads out, Winona's standing, waiting in the hallway.

"Oh. Excuse me!"

She passes him by, closing and locking the door behind her. Leonard moves down the hallway, looking at photos on the walls. Most of them are of Natalie, or her parents, but Jim's in a few. Standing in the background, lighting fireworks while Natalie stares at the sky with delight. There's one of the two of them sitting on the porch, Jim pointing at the stars.

"He wanted to become an astronaut," Winona says, from behind him. Bones keeps staring at Jim, who's sitting on a chair with a guitar, a group of toddlers at his feet. He looks happy. "Talked about it since he was a kid."

"How'd he get into pharmacology?" Bones asks. It's a little like intruding, so he tries to make it sound casual. Jim could be whatever the fuck he wanted. He's more than smart enough for it.

"Plenty of reasons. I sent him away for school, for one, after his father left. He was too close to Natalie. Not that that matters today."

"Boarding school," Leonard says. He wonders what effect that had on Jim. He's heard good things about boarding schools, but he's heard horror stories about them, too. Jim's been through enough without trauma from school.

"Best in the country, though I doubt Jim would have good things to say about it. He's always been hard to please, though I'm sure you know that."

"Jim's not hard to please." Loyalty, for one. It's not hard to give to him. Kindness. Leonard's not sure how he of all people, a divorced man with an alcohol addiction riddling his past, made it into Jim Kirk's good graces, but he'll take it. God willing, he won't give it up, either.

"Hmm," Winona says, a small smile on her face. "I suppose you would know. How long have the two of you been together?"

He tells her--can't quite remember how long Jim had told everyone, but it's long enough. He and Jim have been friends long enough, through enough, that he does know. Hard to believe that some people don't know him the way Leonard does, but other times, it's easy to see why. Like now. Leonard's not sure if he knows anything about Jim.

She hums again, pats him on the shoulder. "You haven't known him very long, then."

Leonard laughs. "Oh, I know him better than I know myself, Ms. Kirk."

"Are you trying to turn my boyfriend against me?" Jim asks, coming down the hallway.

"Merely reliving past memories, Jim. Don't get so defensive."

A fire burns in Jim's eyes. "Defensive."

Winona sighs. "Jim--"

Jim holds his hands up. Leonard feels, strangely, caught in the middle. Wants to calm Jim down, but knows he shouldn't interfere with a man that finally feels like he can say his piece without someone belittling him for it. Leonard doesn't know the details, but you don't have to be a genius to sense the tension between Jim and his mother.

"No, no, you're right. Little Jimmy that threw away his future, right? Fucked it all away--"

"You know I don't think that--"

"--being a part of a family? Let his conscience get in the way of the future he had?"

"Jim," Leonard says, his voice low. He reaches out for Jim's arm, but Jim pulls away.

"And Sam's the one you call a golden boy." Jim looks at Winona with hard eyes. "After everything, I can't do a damn thing right, can I?"

Winona doesn't take the bait, just sighs. "I believe I left my drink outside. If you'll excuse me."

Jim steps aside to let her leave, even if every inch of his body is taut with tension. Leonard steps forward again, puts a hand on Jim's shoulder again.

"She didn't tell you what happened, did she?" Jim asks, his tone sounding like he’s in another place. He points to a photo on the wall. “She sent Sam and me to boarding school when we were kids. Big one, best in the country. I got off to a bad start, saw the headmaster’s son picking on girls and entered eight years of hell as a result. Mom’d never listen to why I did it, just thought it was me acting out because our dad left.”

Bones doesn’t say anything, just watches Jim’s face shift as he looks at the photo. “Spent my entire childhood getting beat up and not believed. Had a scholarship with NASA for school—lost it because I saw the same kid picking on a girl in high school and got into a fight.” Jim clenches his jaw. “Fifteen times.”

“Your mom said you gave up being an astronaut.”

“Did she?” Jim blinks, turns to look at Bones. “Look, I don’t hold it against her. She did her best, after my dad left, just… She still sees him, when she looks at me, and it’s hard not to fight her on that.”

“It sounds like you made good decisions.”

Jim laughs. “Sometimes, but—I picked fights. Seemed like the only way for people to stop talking about me as my father’s son was to have them talking about what a fuck up I was.” He shakes his head. “Anyway. My brother got mad because he thought I was deliberately making things harder on Mom, blaming her for what happened with Dad, and just—“ He rolls his eyes. “This is stupid. It was stupid. It shouldn’t even be a problem.”

“Do you think it still is?”

Shrugging, Jim turns to him. “I don't know. He nearly tore me a new one just for RSVPing to Natalie’s party, so.” He looks up to meet Leonard’s eyes. “Yeah. I guess so.”

It all sounds simple to Leonard, but he knows how childhood can hurt. How it follows you through adulthood if you let it. He doesn’t think Jim’s the one letting it follow him, though.

“We can leave,” he says. “Fuck ‘em, right?”

“Yeah, but—“ He pauses. “I know what you’re getting at, Bones, I do. And I’m a hypocrite for suggesting it at your ex’s wedding and denying it here, but I need to see this through. For Natalie.”

But Bones gets it. “All right. You let me know when you want to get out of here, though, right?”

Jim smiles, soft, and nods. “Count on it.”

He turns to walk away, but before he makes it to the end of the hallway, he turns, a hand in the air. “Hey, Bones—“

He looks up, catches just a split second look at Jim’s face before he kisses him. Hands in his hair, tugging at his shirt, the whole thing—biting down on his lips, pressing Leonard closer with a hand to the back of his neck—pressing him against the wall so a photo goes askew, and doesn’t pull back until someone clears their throat.

Jim’s brother, looking both uncomfortable and amused, nods at Leonard. He’s holding a can in one hand, his other wrapped in a towel. “Don’t believe we’ve met,” he says to Leonard, who’s still leaned against the wall, Jim standing next to him. “I’m Sam, Jim’s brother.”

“Leonard,” he says, nodding in lieu of shaking hands. “Jim’s—“

But he waves it off. “Right, right. Natalie explained it all to me.” He looks between the two of them. “Natalie said you were a doctor?”

“Best one in the country,” Jim says, proudly. He lays it on thick with a lovestruck look in Leonard’s direction.

Sam seems satisfied enough, and heads into the bathroom. In the silence between himself and Jim, Leonard hears the sink turn on.

“Did you plan that?” he asks Jim, under his breath.

Jim just walks away smiling.

——-

It’s dark by the time Leonard talks to him again. As it turns out, he knows a fair amount of the Kirk family through his own acquaintances, though he’d never tell that to Jim without reason. Thinks it’s good for him to think Leonard’s all his own, boyfriend or no.

“Cmere,” Jim says, pulling Leonard away from the bonfire. It’s late, so it’s just Natalie and her family, Leonard and Jim and Natalie’s best friend, who’s spending the night. She’s laughing, holding a stick with a marshmallow into the fire. Leonard sees the resemblance; the fire dances in her eyes the same way it does Jim’s. “Wanna show you something.”

He drags him out, far away from the fire, behind an old shed. Leonard makes a quip about being in a horror movie, a bad one, but Jim shushes him. “Give it a minute.”

So Leonard waits, acutely aware of Jim’s hand still in his own, until his eyes adjust completely. After a few minutes, he blinks out at the darkness.

“Okay, what?”

“There!” Jim says, pointing in the sky with their hands. “Right there, the star that looks like it’s moving.”

Maybe he’s looking in the wrong spot, but he can’t see anything. “Jim—“

So Jim moves behind him, sidling right up against Bones’ back, resting his chin on his shoulder, and lifting his arm to point in the sky. “There.” He sees it, now; a bright dot flying through the sky. But he’s more interested in the warmth of Jim’s body at his back.

Leonard swallows.

“It’s the space station,” Jim whispers. A loud laugh from the party reaches them, but neither pay it any mind. “It’ll disappear in a minute, so just… watch.”

And Leonard does, even if he’s more aware of Jim’s body against him than the station flying through the sky. “How’d you know it’d be here?”

“I have alerts on my phone.” He sighs, doesn’t pull away, just wraps his arms around Leonard’s torso. In a moment of bravery, Leonard rests his own arms over Jim’s. “That’s the kind of thing I wanted to do,” he says. “Before I lost my scholarship.”

“You still can.” Leonard thinks about that, about letting Jim go—and feels something grip tight at him and pull, hard, at the thought of not seeing him everyday.

“I know, just.” Jim goes quiet, for a moment. “I like my job. I like where I am, now. The people I know, who I work with. I don’t think I could give that up, even for that.”

The station disappears in the horizon, and with it, the spell that’s cast over Jim. He pulls away, finally, and wraps his arms around himself. “I’m not desperate to get away from my father, wherever he is, anymore, Bones. I’m not a kid trying to outrun his father’s shadow anymore.”

Maybe it’s the darkness, but something gives Leonard the courage to reach forward for Jim’s hand. He squeezes, once, twice, and pulls him into a one-armed hug, still staring out at the sky before them.

“You ready to go home?”

Jim snorts. “Hell yeah.”

Reluctantly, Leonard pulls his arm away from Jim. The tension in his muscle’s back full-force now, and Leonard thinks there’s a storm brewing that gets worse the closer back to the fire they get. By the time Jim says anything about leaving, he's slouched into himself, frowning and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"We're gonna head home," Jim says. Natalie immediately jumps from her chair, holding onto her uncle tight, and hugs him, arms thrown around his neck. Sam makes a noise, but says nothing. "Much as I love that view."

"Lots clearer out here," Leonard says, before anyone can get smart about their time away. "Too much lifht pollution at home to see the skies."

Sam grunts, takes a big drink of the beer in his hand, and keeps his mouth shut.

"I know," Natalie says, her voice excited and full of longing. "Isn't it incredible?"

"Bet you're going to miss it at school," Jim says.

"You have no idea." She sighs. "I mean, we've got the best program in the country for astrophysics, but you can't even see the stars."

Jim grins, though. "You excited?"

"So excited! I wanted to start summer classes, but they're all second-year courses, so I couldn't."

"Enjoy the time off," Jim says. "Pretty soon you'll be wishing you still had summers off."

Leonard knows better. Jim loves his job. He wouldn't work the hours he does and not complain about it otherwise.

"Anyway," he says, "gotta get out."

"So late?" Winona asks. "I'm sure we can find room for you here."

Sensing the tension rising, Leonard clears his throat, and says, "We appreciate the offer, Ms. Kirk, but--"

"--we all know my brother would hate that." Jim's voice is too sugar-sweet to come across as anything but... Antagonistic.

Bones takes a deep breath, and presses his hand against Jim's lower back. Hoping to ease away some of the tension, but not surprised when it doesn't work.

"Anyway, Bones and I work nights, so we're usually up until nine or ten."

Natalie's face falls, and she hugs Jim again. "But we hardly saw you!"

Sam, silent until now, grunts. "Can you believe your luck?"

And Jim snaps. Leonard's impressed that he didn't start screaming at him. "Can I talk to you, inside?" He doesn't even wait for Sam to answer, just takes off for the house, leaving Leonard alone with the rest of his family, and Natalie's best friend.

Sighing, Sam stands, follows his brother into the house. Bones counts the seconds, but fhere's no immediate screaming, so he takes a seat and rubs his hands over his face.

"You think he's bad now," Winona says, "you should have seem him as a child."

Natalie sighs. "Jim's not that bad. He promised he'd be nice, and he was. And Dad got drunk, and he's been picking fights all night."

Bones is surprised at that. Jim’s relationship with all of his family is strained, at best, but he still thought the worst was with his parents, not his brother.

“All things considered,” Winona says, “they’ve been good. I’d thought they’d’ve already gotten into it.”

Leonard clears his throat. “Jim can be surprisingly reserved when he wants to be.”

“Or stubborn.”

It’s not his place. Leonard knows that. But Jim’s his best friend. Not without flaw, but he’s a good man. Leonard was sure of that before this weekend, but…

He knows he shouldn’t say anything, that for the longest time he and Jim were work friends. That there was a time when both of them would’ve laughed something like this off.

But he can’t help it. The words just spill out. “Do you have something against your son, Ms. Kirk?”

She seems surprised. “Excuse me?”

“Where I come from,” he says, “parents don’t get to expect someone else to raise their children, and get away with complaining how they turned out. Not that you should,” he says. “Jim may be stubborn as a mule, but he’s a good man. Better than most.”

“I—I didn’t…” Winona pauses. “Have you ever raised children, Leonard?”

Leonard almost laughs. “Have you?”

And the thing is, Leonard gets it. He’s seen this. Winona doesn’t hate her children, and her reasons for being so hard on Jim aren’t because he’s the worst of her children. She’s caught up in regret, most likely, and can’t admit her part in her son’s failed relationship with his family.

“I know how you think he is,” Leonard says, because he does; most of the people that meet Jim think he’s risky, childish, immature. “But he’s not a child anymore.”

Winona looks like she wants to say something, but a loud crash comes before she can.

Leonard’s up and out of his chair, running towards the house, before he can even think about it. Because not every first impression about Jim is wrong, and his tendency to escalate situations unnecessarily when he’s feeling down about himself is one of those impressions.

They’re not far inside the house. Just off the kitchen. Jim’s bleeding from an eyebrow, and his eye socket’s turning blue, already, and Sam’s got him pressed up against some cabinets, an arm at his throat.

“Jim—“ Leonard says, already stepping forward to pull Sam off of him.

“You haven’t changed,” Jim says, without even looking at Leonard. Leonard notes Sam doesn’t look like he was hit at all. Did Jim even fight back? Jim’s expression isn’t anger, or fear—just resignation, disappointment. Pain, underneath it all. Sam finally lets go of him, and Jim tugs his shirt back down. Doesn’t even acknowledge the cut on his eyebrow, just walks out. Leonard watches Sam for a minute, expecting another attack. Looks to Winona, who’s furious, and says nothing as he follows Jim out the door.

Natalie’s crying, reaching out to touch Jim’s eyebrow. Jim’s already smiling, telling her it’s fine, she shouldn’t hold this against her father.

“It’s been going on since we were kids,” Jim says, raising his voice so she can hear him over the yelling inside the house. Sam’s wife must’ve heard the racket, and came down to investigate, since the voice screaming doesn’t sound like Winona. “So-look, this is why I don’t come home anymore, you know? We can’t move on until he stops being an ass about stuff that happened so long ago.”

Natalie pulls him into an embrace, so tight that Leonard can hear the breath huff out of him. “Guess that means I won’t see you for the holidays?”

Jim sighs. “Sorry, Nat.”

“Jim,” Bones says, finally, because he’s tired of seeing Jim looking so defeated. “You should patch that up.”

And, wow, it’s almost like Jim forgot he was there. He looks so surprised. His eyes light up, and—well. Any regrets Leonard’s had about coming tonight go right out the window when he sees the thankfulness in Jim’s eyes.

“Right.” He hugs Natalie again. “Keep me posted about school,” he says. “You’re living my dream.”

“I think you ended up with a better one,” she says, and leans in to hug Leonard, too. “Please take care of him.”

There’s no hesitation when Bones says, “Of course. Starting with the black eye.”

Winona doesn’t come out to say goodbye, and Leonard’s not concerned enough with niceties to wait. Jim’s limping, too, but waves it off when Bones expresses concern. “Aggravated an old injury,” he says. “Bad ankle from a soccer game when I was a kid. Ice should get it normal again.”

Leonard opens the passenger door for him, shuts it once Jim’s safely inside .He wasn’t kidding about his family. Leonard really wishes he’d been exaggerating.

He gets into the driver’s side, and just sits, for a minute. He doesn’t want to drive home. If they go home, Jim will go home, insist on it, and Leonard can’t check on him there. Jim’s good at self-destruction. Leonard doesn’t want him to fall into that spiral for this.

He wouldn’t get any sleep, either, worried about him.

There’s a hotel on the way back. It’ll at least get them through the night, where Bones can keep an eye on him.

Jim’s got a hand pressed to his eye, the other one, and there’s a set to his shoulders Leonard’s never seen before.

“Hotel?” he asks, even though he’s made the decision already.

Nothing. Jim stays quiet, doesn’t pull his hand away from his face. Leonard’s usually the first to yell at him for getting into a fight, he remembers. Coming into work on his night off so Leonard can patch him up. But this is different. Jim didn’t fight. And Leonard knows he can, so…

Maybe he never fights, Leonard thinks, his stomach souring at the thought. How often has Bones called him a jackass when Jim maybe didn’t even participate?

He rests a hand on Jim’s knee, surprised when he breathes in sharply, and his breath hitches.

He’s—crying?

“You have no idea,” he says, “what it’s like to live in his shadow.” Jim laughs. “For years, I tried to be just like him. Growing up without a father meant I was always looking, you know, for a father figure, and Sam—he got it. Shitty roele model. He grew up on drugs, in and out of juvie. That was before Winona sent us away for school.”

Jim doesn’t say anything else, and Leonard doesn’t know where to start, so he squeezes Jim’s knee and says nothing.

In the hotel room, Leonard watches when Jim goes straight to the bed without a word, without turning on a light. Lays on the bed, fully dressed, doesn’t even pull the covers over himself.

Leonard washes his face, brushes his teeth with the toothbrush he got from guest services, and debates if he really wants to make Jim get up to look at the cut. But then, that’s why he’s spending one hundred and fifty dollars—to keep an eye on Jim.

He turns on the bedside light, and taps at Jim with his first aid kit. “Come on, sit up.”

Jim does. Without so much as a groan. Sits with his legs wide so Leonard can get up and close, and—

“Looks pretty nasty,” Leonard says. It’s a jagged cut; it’ll probably scar. He doesn’t want to know what Sam got him with, but he has to know.

“Bottle,” Jim says with a shrug. “Doesn’t hurt too much.”

Leonard sighs. Can’t believe Sam would do that to his brother. Almost wishes he would have hit him, but it’s better this way. No potential assault lawsuit.

“You can say it,” Jim says.

“Your brother’s an asshole.”

Jim snorts, raising his eyebrows. “Not what I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking?” Leonard’s fingers dab at the cut with an antiseptic wipe, careful not to hurt him.

“You know, the regular lecture. I shouldn’t go looking for fights—“

“You shouldn’t—“

“—I’m not twenty-one anymore—“

“You’re not—“

“And one day I’m gonna get my ass beat into next Sunday because I looked at some guy wrong.”

He still might. “This wasn’t a fight.”

“Looked like it from where I was standing.”

“Your brother didn’t have a mark on him,” Leonard says, dabbing antibiotic ointment on the wound. “So either you’ve been fighting wrong your entire life, or he attacked you.”

Jim goes quiet again, so Leonard figures he has his answer. He packs away y the first aid kit, after covering the wound with a bandaid, turns off the lights, and crawls in on the other side of the bed before Jim says, “It was him.”

“Who was?”

“I got into fights with my brother at school. He was harassing girls. I always say it was the headmaster’s son going after a girl. The details usually change. Just… It’s easier than explaining I got the shit beat out of me by my brother.”

“Your mother never knew?”

“Why should she? She already sent us away. What good would it have done?” Jim sighs. “Uh… Right before I lost my scholarship. I don’t remember what I caught him doing, what pissed him off. Just—know that I got the shit kicked out of me, and next thing I knew, one of his friends was accusing me of starting shit, and I lost my scholarship.”

Leonard stares at the ceiling. Can’t even begin to figure out what the hell to say.

“First time I ever hit him, then, you know?” He almost laughs. “And I can’t help but think the reason I resented him for my entire childhood was because he knew Dad. I shouldn’t be so pissed. It was years ago, and I—can’t let it go? I like where I am now, and my job, and my—“

Leonard reaches out, in the dark, and pats at Jim, looking for a hand, or an arm, to grip and reassure. “You wanted it. It gave you a chance to get away from everyone, everything, and—Jim, you don’t need to justify what he did. Your brother still treats you like shit. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“He blames me. He was almost five, when I was born, and our dad left. And he blames me.”

Jim hides so much of himself. He’s been hiding since he was a kid, and incredibly well. Without anyone there to support him.

He can’t make it better. He can’t force Winona to talk to her son, or force Sam to stop being an asshole over something he started in the first place. That bone-deep pain has already made a home in Jim’s chest. But he can curl up against his back, in the silence, and wrap an arm around Jim’s waist, and let him know he’s there, and, God help him, he’s never going to stop trying to make it better for him.

Jim relaxes under Leonard’s arm, and maybe that has to be enough.

Thenext morning, everything seems better. Jim comes back to the room with coffee and donuts and fruit, and some of the granola bars he knows Leonard loves, and that’s that.

They get in the car, they drive home, and they don’t talk about it.

But Jim does linger for a moment when they part ways, holding Leonard with a gaze that doesn’t look like it’s all there, and says, “Thank you, Bones.”

There’s no uncertainty in his words. And Bones just nods, averts his gaze, and says, “Any time, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy smokes I genuinely was not expecting this to get so much attention. THANK YOU I hope I don't disappoint you are all so lovely. my plan was to get a chapter up a week, but I already messed that up so I have no promises. (but it is all written, I stand by that)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love u thanks for waiting  
> also p.s. background uhura/spock

"Are you going to the charity thing everyone’s going to next weekend?" Jim asks one morning, after he's brought coffee to the office for Leonard. It's the end of his second shift in a row, and he's exhausted. Entirely too pleased to see Jim's face, to the point he's not even jealous that he looks well-rested and happy. Thankful that at least one of them doesn't get the short end of the stick.

"Depends if I'm still at work." Everyone, or near everyone, is going on vacation, leaving Leonard and Chapel to take over. Leonard loves his job, but he's not going to sugarcoat it. It's intense, and stressful, and soul-draining. He is jealous of his coworkers, on vacation in summer instead of rushing from end-to-end of the building for sixteen hours a day. "I'd like to, if I can swing the time off." But if it comes down to it, he'll send a check and call it good. He's seen a lot of his coworkers lately--and the point of it is for charity, not a work party.

"Cool. You know they're doing an open bar, right?" As if that’s all it takes to get Leonard to agree—the promise of good, free liquor.

“That sounds all fine and good," Leonard says, "If I go. What about you?" Any last minute dates, he wants to ask, but Jim hasn't been talking about women since they started not-dating. Leonard's mature enough to admit he's immature enough to not want to crush his own hopes.

"I don't know. Good cause, right?" He perches on the edge of the desk that Leonard's sitting at. Makes his home there like he's always been there. Leonard grumbles, because he's shoving things out of their place, but he grumbles only because he’s expected to. He’d deny it if asked, but he likes it when Jim’s this… secure.

Damn him. Damn Jim. Clawed his way in and made a home in Leonard's chest like it was nothing.

He scowls, taps at his keyboard until it wakes the computer from sleep, and takes a drink of the coffee Jim brought him. Jim's not a perfect guy, Leonard reminds himself forcefully. Jim's far from it. Spends his nights out late, gets in too many fights for the professional he paints himself as behind the counter. He's a stubborn bastard, too. Try getting him to back down from a fight.

But Leonard loves him, somehow, someway, and damn if that isn't the biggest screw-up he's made in a while. Falling in love with his best friend, with baggage to rival Leonard's, and no way out of it.

“Yeah,” he says, “good cause.”

Leonard gets stopped the next afternoon by Uhura as she's on her way to lunch. "Are you guys going this weekend? It's supposed to be for a really--"

“Is who going?"

Uhura raises her eyebrows, then says, "You and Kirk. You're going to the charity event, right?"

Right. They're a package deal, now. Maybe they always have been. Maybe Leonard's just been so busy he hasn't noticed.

Then again, there’s always the chance that Jim’s been spreading rumors about them.

"I don't know," he says. "Jim's pretty exhausted." And that's true. Jim's been out a lot, without Leonard, and he looks like hell. If Leonard had to guess, he'd say it had something to do with Jim’s family, but he hasn’t found it within him to attempt to open that can of worms. "Think a relaxing weekend at home might do him some good."

"Chapel went to see him last shift. Caught him sleeping behind the counter. You sure he's alright?" Uhura stops in the hallway, and turns to face him. "You're keeping an eye on him?"

"Of course." Leonard's not worried--the fact that Nyota is, though, is touching. Leonard gets it, what Jim's doing to himself, and wishes he could help. But he's struggling, and until Jim can come forward and talk to him, Leonard thinks it's best to leave it that way. Even if it’s tearing him up inside.

"I'll talk to him again," Leonard tells her, though. "I'm looking out for him, Nyota. Don't worry."

She looks relieved by that, and nods. It’s funny to think that they’re close as they are, now, when Jim tried to Leonard pauses, then says, "I'm supposed to meet Jim for lunch," he says. "Did you want to join us...?"

Her whole demeanor changes. ”What? Um. No. Thank you, I've got other plans." She nods, pats Leonard's arm, and leaves. Just like that. Leonard watches her go with a raised eyebrow and an almost-frown.

The mystery doesn't last long. When Leonard brings Jim lunch, he says, "You know Spock just got a secret girlfriend?" He laughs. "Just like that.”

And everything clicks into place.

"How do you know that?"

"He told me he was meeting a woman for lunch. When I asked who, he said he couldn’t tell me. A secret girlfriend.” He shakes his head, taking a bowl from Leonard.

"Like the secret boyfriend I got?"

Jim's head snaps up, before he rolls his eyes and scowls. "Very funny. Besides, I don't think we're very secret. Everyone knows about us."

Opening the lid on his bowl, Leonard asks, "Is the magic gone, then?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. It's a courthouse wedding and old married life, now." Jim takes a look at his lunch--Leonard's brought them both all week, and isn't that just domestic--and smiles to himself. Spins the fork around in the noodles for a minute, then says, ”Anyway. Scotty came up to me to congratulate us for finally resolving years of sexual tension," he says, "so I guess the magic really is gone."

Leonard raises his eyebrow. "He did not."

"He did! Bottle of whiskey in my office to prove it. Says, 'To McCoy and Kirk--best of luck. If anyone's got the balls to make it in this world, it's you.' I think Spock was jealous, actually. As much as he can be."

Jealous--of what they have. Of this fake relationship Leonard shares with his best friend. He knows Jim's not disgusted by the idea of it, but receptive and accepting are different things. If Leonard kissed him, now, where there's no one watching, how would Jim react?

He's not sure he wants to find out.

"I don't think I'm going," Jim says. "It's a lot of presenting to get money for a charity when it's easier and cheaper if I send them a check." He shakes his head, takes a bite of his sandwich, and points it at Bones. "Please tell me you're not going. Spock's taking his girlfriend, and Scotty's got plans with Sulu. Don't leave me hanging."

"Chapel's going," Bones says. "You're never left hanging."

Jim flashes him a dark look, so dramatic Bones would laugh if he had it in him today. "Don't get cute, you know what I mean."

"I thought we already established I'd only go with you." Bones stabs at a bunch of lettuce. "I'm not going to subject myself to being auctioned off without prior approval."

Raising his eyebrows, Jim studies him for a moment. Swallows, but still talks through a mouthful of food when he asks, "They're auctioning guys off?"

"I don't know. I'd rather not find out." He grunts, then, at the idea of it. "Figured I'd send a check, too."

They sit, saying nothing, for a few minutes before Jim says, "Hey, why don't we hang out, huh? Everyone thinks we'll be together that night anyway."

"Why?"

Jim colors a little, his cheeks and the very top of his ears. Bones looks away before he can think it's endearing. "I may have, uh, helped the rumor mill a little bit."

Leonard can't even find the strength to be angry about it. "What'd you say?"

"You're not gonna ream me a new one?"

Jim sounds surprised, almost disappointed. "Once you get an idea in your head, Jim, it's hard to get it out." It can be downright infuriating, sometimes, but Leonard's learned to accept it. Or he's learning, maybe. It's a hard thing to get used to.

"And here I had my arguments all figured out," Jim says, slouching in his seat. "Now what am I going to do with them?"

"Save them for the next time I have to tear into you," Leonard says. Jim's eyes twinkle for a minute--probably, he realizes after a moment, at the double entendre. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing graphic, if that's what you're worried about. I'm not a man that kisses and tells."

"Or fake kisses and tells."

"Been together a few months, trying to keep it on the downlow so no one tries to put us on separate shifts. That sort of thing."

"And you think it's going to work?"

Jim gives him a funny look. "Considering it's not real, yeah, Bones, I do. It's not like we really have to worry about breaking policy, here."

Would Jim be worried even if they were together, though, Bones wonders. If he would be anywhere near as casual if he didn't have a lie to fall back on. If he really had Bones at his side, in a way he doesn't already.

"Mmm."

"So, come on, what do you say? Bad movies, popcorn?"

They don't go—Leonard writes a check out to the charity and dumps it in the mailbox on the way back to his house, and lays facedown on the couch until Jim comes over with a pizza and sodas.

Jim looks good. His hair’s still wet from a shower, he’s got sunglasses sitting on the top of his head, and he lets himself into Leonard’s apartment without a second thought. Whistles when he sees Leonard lift his head from the couch. "Boy, you really know how to clean up for a guy, don't you?"

"Old married couple," Leonard says, rolling onto his back. Jim sets the pizza on the coffee table, the soda next to it, and lifts Leonard's feet onto his lap. "How was your day, darlin'?" he asks, looking down at Jim. It's minute, but Jim tenses for a moment before he pats Leonard's legs, playing the part.

"Exhausting, but rewarding as always, dear." He stretches his arms above his head and yawns, wiggling down to slouch in his seat. Leonard pulls his legs away, reaches for the pizza, only to get his arm kneed back. "What, no pre-dinner kiss?”

Leonard thinks about it, just for a split second. Wonders how Jim would look if Leonard leaned forward and kissed him. How Jim would respond. How he'd feel underneath Leonard's hands, without anyone to watch them, without any audience to play for.

Instead, he snorts, says, "And take what's left of the magic? I don't think I have it in me to put out tonight, Jim, I'd hold your cards."

Jim chuckles, grabs for the soda on the floor and hands a can to Leonard. "I dropped a three-hundred dollar check into the mail tonight," he says, "you don't think that earns me a little magic?"

"You ain't gonna find it here," Leonard says, taking his can and knocking it against Jim’s.

“Give it time. I’ll charm you someday, Bones,” Jim says, offhand, before reaching for the remote on the coffee table. He doesn’t comment on the layer of dust covering everything in sight, so Leonard doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s already victim to Jim’s charm.

They’re out halfway through the first movie, Jim’s head resting in Leonard’s lap. Bones wakes to a car chase scene on TV, people screaming at each other. Jim’s got a soda can still clutched between his fingers, teetering on the edge of spilling. His legs are asleep, but stretching means he has to wake Jim up.

Leonard’s not a man that allows himself a lot of indulgences. Not out of self-loathing, or misconstrued conceptions of whether he deserves it, but because he doesn’t have the time. He’s exhausted or working; it leaves little time for moments like this. This specific one especially so, because Jim’s never fallen asleep on him before; not outside of work meetings. Not when Leonard has a moment to reflect on just how deep the ocean of shit is that he’s gotten himself into.

He raises his hand, drops it gently to Jim’s head and runs his fingers over Jim’s hair. It’s smooth, soft from air drying. Leonard runs his hands through it a few times before he pats at Jim’s chest with his free hand. “Jim,” he says, voice still rough with sleep.

Jim just grunts.

“Get up.”

He grunts again.

“You can crash on the couch, but I gotta piss.”

Jim cracks his eyes open, peering up at Leonard with a look of confusion. “Romantic.”

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “What part of this weekend had ‘romantic’ written on it? Move.”

He’s not above shoving Jim to the ground, no matter how much he might love him, but Jim rises to his feet, grumbling. Sets the—thankfully empty—soda can on the table, on a coaster.

“All right, all right.” Jim shuts the television off, yawning as he reaches for the remote. “Headed for bed?”

It isn’t late, but Leonard’s been working doubles all week and really could use the extra sleep. “Yeah, probably.”

Jim nods. “All right. Can I crash here?”

“Make yourself at home.”

Leonard can feel his eyes on him all the way to the bathroom. It’s hard to shake the feeling that Jim can see him through the door while he does his business, brushes his teeth—but when Leonard leaves the bathroom, Jim’s not sitting on the couch in plain sight anymore, so Leonard checks the locks and heads towards his bedroom.

Where Jim’s already crawled under the covers, stripped down to his boxers, curled towards the middle of the bed. Something warm spreads in his chest at the sight of Jim lying there, so he shuts the light off before he can make sense of it. Crawls in under the covers after checking the AC unit under the window. He’s thankful he can’t see Jim’s face. That Jim can’t see his. He’s not sure he’d be able to hide how he feels, right now.

He’s almost asleep when Jim, out like a light, makes a noise and attaches himself to Leonard’s side like an octopus, tangling their legs together and throwing his arm across Leonard’s torso. It’s not surprising, but the shock of Jim’s skin against Leonard’s has him jolting, anyway, tensing.

“Jus’ me, Bones,” Jim says, nuzzling into his neck. “Jus’ me.”

Which, Leonard realizes, is the whole damn problem.

When Leonard wakes up, around ten p.m. according to the clock on his nightstand, Jim’s gone. For a while, judging by how cold Leonard is. He gets up and shuts the AC off, pulling a long-sleeved t-shirt on and heading out to the kitchen for coffee.

Jim’s probably gone back home, Leonard thinks, rubbing at his eyes as he stumbles through the dark hallway back to the kitchen. Back to reality, and Leonard thinks maybe he should do the same.

But the TV’s on, and the closer Leonard gets to the kitchen, he hears humming. As he turns the corner, he’s greeted with the sight of Jim, back turned to him, humming and standing at the stove. He’s clothed, now, which comes as a pleasant surprise—until Leonard realizes he’s wearing Leonard’s clothes. A ratty t-shirt that hangs from Jim’s shoulders, a pair of pajama pants that sit low on his hips.

Leonard watches, just for a moment, surprised and overwhelmed, before stepping into the kitchen. He wants to shove Jim against the counter and kiss him, slide his hands up his sides and tell him he loves him. Instead, he settles for, “Didn’t realize you’d stick around.”

“Figured you could use a pick-me-up,” Jim says, taking pancakes from the skillet on the stove. “Do you have plans? Are you expecting company?”

What company, Leonard thinks to himself. The only company he wants is standing in his kitchen watching reality television while he makes breakfast. “No, just us.”

“You know,” Jim says, pointing the spatula in Leonard’s direction. “I think that’s part of the problem.”

“There’s a problem?”

“It’s always just us.” Jim pours more batter into the skillet and looks at Leonard. “We should throw a party.”

“That’s not a little domestic to you?”

“I didn’t say a dinner party,” Jim says, with a roll of his eyes. “Look, between the two of us, we know enough people. I’ve got a backyard—come on, Bones. Let loose a little.”

Leaning against the counter, Leonard sighs. Feels like Jim’s always dragging him out for something, when it’s these moments - just us - that he appreciates the most. But it’s Jim. If he asked Bones to conquer the skies with him, he’d go in a heartbeat.

“When were you thinking?”

——-

“Do you always,” Bones tells him, talking through his teeth, “have to introduce me like that?”

“Like what?”

“‘Bones’? Where’d you even get that, anyway?”

Jim just looks at him, not even bothering to pause in pulling ice out of the cooler to dump in his drink. “You don’t know?”

“Who could possibly figure that out, Jim?”

“What would you rather me introduce you as?”

“Anything else,” Leonard tells him, “like my name.”

“Fair enough,” Jim says, but his eyes are twinkling. Leonard doesn’t get the opportunity to really ask what that look’s for before someone comes up to Jim again.

“Jim! Long time no see—“ And Jim’s just as enthusiastic, gives Leonard long enough to down half a glass of water before Jim’s sighing dramatically, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Leonard knows before Jim even opens his mouth this is going to be bad.

“This,” he says, with all the suspense of someone announcing at an awards show, “is my better half. You stand, my friend, in the presence of a genius, a man with brilliant hands and a more brilliant soul, a man that cuts with wit and soothes with sweet tea. He’s my—“

“Bones,” Leonard says, before he stomps on Jim’s foot. He holds his hand out for the woman, who looks understandably confused and amused. “Bones.”

Jim doesn’t let him live it down the rest of the night.

As it turns out, though, Jim’s pretty content to let everyone think they’re dating. To the point that Leonard wonders if they are. Jim teams up with him in games, kisses him when they win. Introduces Bones to friends he’s never met by saying, ‘my boyfriend,’ to the point that, when the night’s settling down and it’s just a few of them sitting by the bonfire that’s going out, it’s expected for Jim to be laying with his head in Leonard’s lap.

Leonard’s exhausted from anxiety and chasing Jim around his own yard, convincing him to not do daredevil stunts that’ll end with Leonard relocating joints, so he’s got his hand curled in Jim’s hair again, massaging his scalp. Jim’s playing with a Rubik’s cube. The music’s gone from upbeat to something slow and soft Leonard would probably slow dance to if he didn’t have a lapful of Jim.

“How long have the two of you guys been together?” one of Jim’s friend’s asks. Leonard looks down at Jim, waiting for his response.

“Eight months,” Jim tells them. “But, you know, it really feels like forever, doesn’t it, Bones?”

Jim lifts his eyes from the toy in his hands towards Leonard’s. Damn him, he thinks, but he hopes it will be forever.

Nyota returns from inside the house, heels in hand. “I’m headed home,” she says to Leonard. It’s the first time they’ve spoken all night, except for the hellos they’d exchanged when she arrived. “Just wanted you to know there’s someone passed out, drunk, on your couch.”

“I thought Scotty couldn’t come?” Jim asks, tilting his head back to look at Nyota.

They’re not faking it at work—or, they weren’t, anyway—but to her credit, Nyota doesn’t seem surprised. “No one I recognized. I’ll see you Monday night?” she asks Leonard, her gaze trailing to watch his hand move in Jim’s hair.

Caught between pride and shame, Leonard pulls his hand away. “Do you need a ride home?”

“Spock’s driving you, right?” Jim interrupts. Nyota pauses, but nods. “Good, good.” She thanks them for ‘the wonderful evening’, and walks back up the steps to leave. Before she opens the door, Jim calls, “Be careful with him, he’s got a girlfriend!”

The whole of the backyard goes quiet, then. Even Leonard bites his lip—looking anywhere but at Jim, and then—“Wait a second—“ and Jim goes running after Nyota.

He returns, a few minutes later, shoulders slumped, and takes one look at Leonard before he says, “Spock’s secret girlfriend is Uhura.”

Leonard doesn’t say anything. The seat shifts as Jim sits next to him.

“Did you know about this?”

“I had my suspicions.”

“I’m his best friend!” Jim says. “Shouldn’t he have told me?”

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “Well, did you ever tell him about us?”

Jim screws up his face—“That’s not—we’re not—I didn’t—“

In a moment of bravery, or sleep exhaustion, Leonard leans forward and kisses him. Holds Jim’s face by the back of his neck, gently tilts his head up. Draws the tip of his tongue along the seam of Jim’s lips, pressing him back into the loveseat and hoping, God, desperately, that this isn’t the dumbest thing he’s ever done.

It’s answered a moment later, when Jim lifts his own hand, rests it against Leonard’s collarbone. Leonard starts to smile, pleased, starts pulling back to tell Jim he’s so relieved, and Jim pulls him back—or pushes him back, really. Jim’s insistent, runs a hand up Leonard’s stomach and around his side, pulls away to mouth at his neck.

They’re the only two conscious outside, now, but Leonard’s not about to let them watch, so while Jim’s busy with his neck, Leonard finds it within himself to say, “Hey, should we move this somewhere—“

“Yeah, yeah, inside,” Jim says, standing. His lips are swollen, his face is flushed, and his hair’s a mess, and Leonard’s thinking he’s beautiful. He’s so in love with Jim Kirk, it’s a damned hazard. When Bones stands, he takes the opportunity to pull Jim in by his collar and kiss him again. “Little eager?”

“More than a little.”

They stumble through the dark house, knocking into tables and photos hanging on the wall. Leonard’s busy with his hands on Jim’s zipper, struggling to walk through an unfamiliar, dark house while still keeping up with Jim enough to kiss along his jaw, his neck, his shoulders—anywhere that’s close enough he can get there.

Jim closes the door to his bedroom behind them, already pulling at his t-shirt even as Leonard’s undoing his jeans, and, faced with the reality of the situation - his best friend, Jim, Jim, who he’s been in a fake relationship with for weeks, months, finally resolving into a real thing that doesn’t only exist in the minds of others - Jim presses him against the mattress, sits him down on the edge and whispers against his knee, “It’s me, Bones, it’s just me.”

——-

He thinks it’s all a dream by morning. He wakes up in Jim’s bedroom, Jim sleeping with his body half falling off the other side of the bed. Everyone’s gone by nine a.m., so Leonard digs through cupboards in Jim’s kitchen for coffee instead of working through what happened.

He was in a failing marriage for years; he’s a pro at avoiding things he should otherwise be talking about.

Apparently, that's the appropriate reaction to sleeping with your best friend, because when Jim comes out of his bedroom, he doesn't say anything about it, either. He accepts a mug of coffee from Leonard without another word about it, and sips at it in silence, looking down at his phone and perching on the edge of the counter.

"I think I'm gonna head home and crash," Leonard says after a while of staring into his quickly cooling coffee. "Get my schedule back on track."

"Good idea," Jim tells him. "Hey," he says, before Leonard even has the opportunity to move. "How long do you think that Spock's been dating Uhura?"

That's the question of the day? They sleep together, Leonard nearly tells Jim how he feels - though, to be fair, he'd thought that sex would drive that point home a little better - and the most pressing matter on Jim's mind is how long his friend has been in a secret relationship.

He decides not to sweat it. Maybe it was a dream. Leonard's been known to have some pretty bizarre ones before, after all. "I don't know, kid." Leonard grabs his keys and his phone, and pauses just before he leaves. "I think we should talk, though, about this--" He gestures between himself. "--before I go making an ass of myself and getting a date."

"A date?" Jim asks. His voice sounds neutral enough. "I thought you were still hung up on Carol?"

He had been, for a while. The thing about Jim is that it's incredibly hard to remain brokenhearted when you're staring into the sun. Jim's not perfect, by any means. Leonard's staring at one of his flaws right now. But that doesn't mean he's cruel.

Leonard doesn't say anything.

"I dunno. Do you have someone in mind?"

He can't bring himself to say 'you', even after last night, so he says, "I just want to keep the story straight. I thought we were doing it for parties. People we don't see. But we just outed the fake relationship to everyone we work with, so I'm thinking you have something a little more longterm in mind."

Jim looks a little bashful, looks down at the mug in his lap and smiles. "Yeah, I guess I did. Hard to remember, sometimes, I guess? I feel like we're already an old married couple, anyway. It's not like I can see myself getting old with anyone else."

And, well, doesn't that just stab him right in the chest. But it's true for Leonard as well, so he says, "Same here, kid."

"Anyway. If you want to call it quits, just let me know. We can have an amicable break up and everyone can go on with their lives."

But Leonard doesn't want to. Maybe it's stupid, but he actually likes playing partner to Jim. Maybe one day it'll be real.

And he goes home, and showers, and tries to figure out the twisted situation he, apparently willingly, got himself trapped in.


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s pretty casual this weekend,” Jim tells him on a Friday night, before their shift is done. "No need to break out the suit and tie."

At that, Jim gets a hungry look on his face, but hides it well. Leonard still raises the eyebrow for it, though. “What are you talking about?” He doesn't remember them having plans, but it's not as if he can say no. Not as if he would say no. Leonard's the reason they're still doing this. The reason it happened to begin with. If you told him last year he'd be sitting knee-deep in a romantic-comedy cliche with his best friend today, well.

“My old college roommate’s engagement party. We were--good friends," he says, scratching at his neck as if he's embarrassed. A little flare of jealousy travels through him. 'Good friends'. He wonders, then, if that's Jim's definition of 'good friends', what that makes the two of them. Is this the kind of relationship he had with this guy, too? Is this the kind of relationship anyone has with anyone?

He shouldn't be so quick to assume--knows he can't be certain, anyway, but Jim’s not good at hiding shame. He wears it on his sleeve, underneath bravado and wit.

"And you need me to pretend to be your new 'good friend'?" Leonard finally asks. Jim rolls his eyes.

"You already are," Jim says, sounding sincere if he says it flippantly, "and I haven't seen these people in ten years. I just need a buffer.”

"Never figured you for the socially anxious."

"I'm not, just. I screwed around a lot, in college, before I got my head on straight, and I'd really rather not have to teach myself how to be an adult, again.”

Leonard wants to say no. More than he wanted to say no to the graduation party, because seeing Jim with a bunch of people he's slept with really doesn't sound like something he's interested in. Or emotionally capable of, at this point. He's still dealing. Maybe he and Jim could really have something. But maybe Leonard would risk the best damn friend he's got, too.

"All right," he says, finally, tossing the papers to the side. Jim's already smiling. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow night. Enough time to crash before we head out. He’s not far, an hour drive, I think?”

An hour drive. That's not much time with just the two of them, and then there will be other people, and the lies get to continue. Leonard gets to pretend that it hasn't been weeks, and Jim hasn't said anything about the night they slept together, that neither one of them has even addressed it. It's rough. What are they, anymore? Not that long ago, Leonard would have found it difficult to consider the two of them best friends. Now--they're, what, friends with benefits? Can you consider a fake boyfriend a benefit?

It all feels so juvenile, and Leonard's ready to start acting like a real couple. Ready to give Jim a drawer in his bedroom, a spot in the bathroom for his things. Officially, because since they’ve started whatever this is, Jim’s gotten one for himself. But, since Jim's been 'busy' and avoiding him, Leonard hasn't wanted to push it. It's better that Jim's in his life at all. He'll take Jim.

So Leonard piles into Jim's car later, loaded with a bunch of reports for work. Jim sighs at him, tapping the file sitting on Leonard's lap. "Seriously? More work?"

"I can get a lot done in an hour, and I'm not going to be doing it at the party," Leonard says. "I have to make people like you."

"Make people like me," Jim says with a laugh. "People already like me. People love me."

"And it's that modesty they find the most endearing."

"It's you that people have to learn to like."

"Are you saying I'm hard to get along with?"

"No offense, Bones, but you're kind of intimidating."

Bones gives him a dark look. "I wouldn't consider that a bad thing. Keeps a lot of assholes from starting shit with me."

"And for that, I'm incredibly grateful."

"Without me, you'd still be getting into fights at shitty bars, kid. Don't forget that."

"I can think of worse places to be, but I do appreciate it. You've made my life a little gloomier, but all the more interesting. But my point still stands."

"You've been doing all right convincing people I'm worth it so far," Leonard says. He doesn't really get what the big deal is; so what if Jim's old college friends he doesn't see anymore don't care about his boyfriend? It's not like they're really dating.

God, are they? Leonard feels like he's in middle school again with his first girlfriend.

"No, just--they're really intense people, Bones. Really hard to please."

"And you're there to wish them well on their wedding day?"

"They've been together for twelve years. If they're not pleased with each other by now, I don't think they ever will be, and I'm pretty sure they know that, too."

A little risky to play with love, Leonard thinks, but he feels like a hypocrite for thinking as much. "So, what do you have in mind? Am I a well renowned doctor that's been around the world? A famous actor in Sweden? Something else difficult to research?"

"I dunno," Jim says. "I don't want to go overboard."

"You could go with the truth," Leonard says. "I work nightshift at a hospital, usually doubles, and go home alone. Or, considering we’re going with outright falsities here, home to you.”

Jim glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "Can we get a dog?"

"...We can get goldfish. We're never home, Jim, we can't raise a dog."

That seems to put him out, but after a few minutes he says, "I don't know, Bones, maybe you have a point."

"Of course I do. No man in their right mind adopts a dog they can't properly take care of, especially when they live with one who can do the sad puppy eyes as well as you."

"...I meant about the truth being the best way to approach this, but what's this about my puppy eyes?"

Leonard colors. ”You know what I'm talking about, menace."

Jim laughs, then, throws his head back and nearly scares the hell out of Bones because the man is driving, keep your damn eyes on the road Jim!, but he shoos Leonard's hands away from the wheel and settles his eyes safely back on the pavement rolling in front of them. "No, you know, you're Bones. You're my Bones. Anyone would be proud to call you theirs, and I get to, at least to some people." He half shrugs, looks at Leonard with a half grin. "Feels like a win."

He could have him, though, Leonard thinks, but doesn't say. Jim could have him in a moment, if he wanted to. But there's got to be something that holds him back, keeps him from talking about what happened. About talking about how either one of them really feels. Leonard knows he's got his own reasons for keeping his mouth shut. Maybe Jim's are similar.

"I appreciate that, Jim," Bones says, carefully. "You're not a bad catch, yourself."

And that's that. Jim turns the radio on, Bones buckles down and starts writing the reports, hoping Jim doesn't catch on to the fact that he's writing the same word over and over instead of focusing on the report itself.

He's got it bad. It's just a matter of fixing it.

\-----

Jim's college friends are all pretty low-key. They're welcoming and nothing like Jim had said, though based on the cheering that Jim's arrival had raised, he thinks that Jim could've brought anyone and they would've accepted him with open arms. Still, it's nice to be an unknown and still be liked. None of these people know Bones is an angry old washed up bastard. They just think of him as Leonard, Jim's older-but-sophisticated boyfriend, smart and good-looking.

He'll take it.

And Jim, Jim's really in his element here, not that he's out of it anywhere else. He jokes and laughs with old friends, brings Bones into the group without making it feel forced or out of place, and Bones sits there, interjecting when Jim tells his tales too tall, setting it straight with a hand to Jim's arm or shoulder, and Jim will roll his eyes and say, "Thank you, dear," and Bones will smirk from behind his glass of water.

 

They're a pleasant bunch, and the wedding—“I thought this was an engagement party!” is the first thing that Jim says when the county clerk makes herself known—is the strangest Leonard has ever been to in his entire life, but he enjoys himself on Jim’s arm anyway. There are more flowers than their are people. They’re both wearing as little clothing as they can get away with while still being clothed.They have no real ceremony, just a group of people formed in a half-circle that wish them well on their journey together, a lady from the courthouse that’s standing next to the couple looking completely out of her element. Bones can understand—in terms of ‘weddings’ he’s not really sure this qualifies—but he won’t complain about the attention from Jim, especially after the time Jim spent avoiding him.

If he can call it that.

A friend explains the wedding, that it’s spiritual in nature, but officially they’re having the clerk there to make it federally recognized. Bones watches with Jim at his side, trying not to smirk when he cracks jokes.

“These are your friends, you ass,” Bones says after a while.

“A natural wedding. As if marriage isn’t man-made.”

They’re sitting alone on the porch at some point during the night, Bones catching up on work emails while Jim dozes, when Jim suddenly says, “You ever think people might think we’re too perfect?”

Leonard snorts. “Anyone that knows us at work knows that isn’t true.” Because they’re a force to be reckoned with when they’re fighting. They’ve cleared hallways fighting about the power hierarchy and proper channels. “Why, you’re not gonna go stage a fight, now are you?”

“Wasn’t thinking about it, but you know, all these other couples fight. I mean—no offense, but you and your ex did, right?”

Leonard thinks very carefully about how to answer that, looking out at the yard of people milling about, the bride and groom dancing around each other to the clapping of other people. “I don’t think Jocelyn and I are exactly the relationship you want to base this off of.”

Jim makes a noise of agreement, then says, “You ever think you’ll get married again?”

Yes, he wants to say. But truly, he’s not sure. He’s getting on in years, and the older you are, the harder it is to meet people. He can’t say for certain what the future’s going to hold with Jim, if there even could be. In every relationship but the one between Leonard and Jim, they are a couple. But Bones can’t imagine faking this for the rest of his life. Even as he knows he loves Jim, would give him whatever he asks to the best of his abilities and would give it willingly, he knows he can’t take the emotional beating forever. Jim’s incredibly good at hiding his true feelings, at protecting himself. He has to be. Bones isn’t even holding that against him.

“Bones?”

“I don’t know. It turned out to be nothing like I’d expected. Hard to imagine putting all that on the line again.”

“You think if you hadn’t gotten married, you’d still be together?”

Bones nearly laughs. “I really hope not.”

“What do you mean?”

Moment of truth, Bones thinks. Everything in his body is telling him that he should just say something, finally, because he’s tired of playing himself. Test the waters, anyway. “I think it’s good for anyone to look out for their own happiness,” he says, slowly, still looking out over the yard. “and not only that of those they love.”

“So you weren’t happy with her?”

He shakes his head. “Not in this universe.”

Jim goes quiet for a long minute, before patting Bones on the knee and standing up. “You’ll find someone. Guy like you could get anyone he wanted.”

Not anyone, apparently, although he’s willing to bet that that’s partially his fault for not opening his own mouth about it. Either Jim’s incredibly dense, just as scared as Bones is about fucking this up, or knows and can’t find a way to let Bones down easy.

“Come on,” Jim says, smiling and holding his hand out. “Dance with me.”

Bones snorts, shoving his phone back in his jacket pocket. “You really think you can keep up with me this time?”

“Have a little faith. I might surprise you.”

So Bones does. Jim steps out of his shoes and they dance right there on the porch. Either Jim was holding back at Jocelyn’s wedding, or he’s been taking classes. “If we got married,” Jim starts after a while. “You think we’d go big, or small?”

“You and me?”

“Humor me. I’m feeling romantic.”

No time better befitting, Leonard thinks, than dancing with your not-boyfriend on the porch of someone’s house. “I think we’d do it at a courthouse, get it over with.” Mostly, he’s just looking for a reaction, but there’s something in the simplicity that Leonard likes, anyway. Less of a show that’ll make you feel embarrassed ten years later when you need to file for divorce and divide the assets. A courthouse wedding means no wedding gifts you get to feel guilty for fighting over when you split up.

“Come on, seriously?”

“Seriously?” Leonard sighs. Jim’s not really into dancing anymore, just kind of swaying them in a kind-of step Leonard can’t recognize. “Seriously, I don’t think we’d go too big. You know too many people, and I don’t know enough. Friends, family. Small as we can make it without letting people feel left out.”

“You don’t want to invite these guys?”

Lowering his voice and pressing his lips to Jim’s ears, he says, “You really think they won’t come criticize every aspect of our wedding?”

Jim laughs. “I think they’re better people than me, if that’s what you mean.”

“Right. Well, in our entirely fake wedding, and you can use this in five years when you tell people I’m your husband, I think we’d be pretty basic. I did the big wedding, already, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, believe me. Mostly it’s just dramatics and people crying, and you getting asked five minutes after you take your vows when you’re going to have grandchildren.”

“Lucky us,” Jim says, “that neither of us can give birth.”

“No, but you think the surrogacy or adoption conversation would be any easier to deal with?” Leonard shakes his head. “Seriously, it’s not like we’d have it easy. I can just imagine my grandmother coming up to us, demanding to know if we’ve chosen a surrogate, an adoption agency to look into, after the rest of the guests have left and she considers it a prime time to talk great-grandchildren.”

But Bones thinks that he’d like it. He could go through marriage again, if Jim wanted to. Wouldn’t look forward to it, doesn’t like the spotlight on him too much, but he’d do it, for Jim. He’s done a lot worse for Jim. Too many nights fixing beaten-up Jim before his shift, in Bones’ tiny, cramped office. Too many nights playing boyfriend to a guy that barely recognized him as a friend for the longest time. Too many nights puking in Jim’s bathroom, or his car, while Jim sat on the bathtub or the curb, rubbing Leonard’s shoulders and waiting out the waves of nausea.

“Why,” he asks, “you thinkin’ about announcing an engagement for us, Jim?”

“Might actually require a little more commitment on our part if we go all the way,” Jim tells him. “Moving in together. Tax forms. Actual, government documents saying we love each other and would never leave.”

Bones can’t believe this is his life. “Most people don’t actually get married to avoid going to weddings alone.” He’s acutely aware this whole thing is his fault, whether Jim suggested it or not. Which means that, directly or not, he’s responsible for the train of thought running through Jim’s head.

And it’s simultaneously been one of the best and worst things Bones has ever gotten himself into. He can’t figure out whether they’re really in a relationship. If, maybe, Jim hides under the disguise of ‘relationship of convenience’ because that’s all it is, or if he’s scared of the real thing.

Bones, hypocritically enough, isn’t yet to the point where he’s willing to ask. Each week of Jim making eyes at him gets a little harder, but he’s capable. It’s just Jim.

“We’re not most people.”

“Theoretically, let’s say we did. What are you going to do when you meet someone you really want to marry? Tell them you’re already married? That you hit a dry spell, got hitched to your best friend o avoid any unwelcome questions about your love life?”

“First of all, I resent that you think I’m going through a dry spell. If I wanted someone, I could find someone.” He flashes Bones a smile, all charm. “Second, I don’t want to get married, Bones, you’re the only person that—“

And he goes silent, completely still. Bones falls against him because he loses footing and missteps over Jim’s unmoving feet. And Jim looks down, away from him, absolutely refuses to look Leonard in the eye as he pulls back.

“I’m the only person that what?” Bones asks, letting his arms fall to his sides. Knows he shouldn’t be pushing, but can’t help it.

Jim’s pulling his jacket back on, looking irritated, though at what, Bones can’t be sure. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Are you pissed at me for bringing it up or something, Jim?”

“No, just—“

“Then what am I? The only person that still thinks there’s an opportunity for love after you get your broken heart handed back to you?”

“No. Come on.”

“The only person that’s stupid enough to still think that marriage is sacred, that it means something?”

Jim scowls. Bones is just stalling for time, now; Jim’s already on the edge of running, and if he can just keep him for a few minutes, maybe the panic can subside. Maybe.

“Or the only person that you can see yourself marrying?”

He says it because it’s true for himself, but Jim’s eyes snap up, and his scowl deepens. Steps close to Bones and lowers his voice. “Don’t project your feelings onto me. You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, okay?” And he steps down off the porch, searching through his pockets.

“I didn’t say anything about your feelings,” Bones says. “I know you. You think I never said anything because it makes it easier on me?”

“I can’t be the person you want me to be, Bones!”

“I haven’t asked for you to be anyone but yourself.” Bones tries to hold it back, but he can’t—too hurt, too angry, too damned in love with the idiot standing in front of him to keep it to himself. “Maybe you were too busy trying to get into my pants to notice.”

Jim runs his hands over his face, laughing dryly. “What do you want me to say, Bones?”

That’s the kicker, isn’t it? Bones doesn’t even know. He’s not sure there are words that Jim could say, at this point, to make him feel better. “I want you to be honest with me.”

He looks honest enough, though, emotions spilled across his face. Damn if Bones doesn’t wish that moving wouldn’t scare Jim away. He looks like he could use a hug, and Bones isn’t far behind him. “I can’t.”

“Be honest?”

“I can’t be with you,” he says. His voice is incredibly quiet. Bones has to strain to hear him. “Not like that. I can’t give you what you want.”

“I never asked for anything.”

He looks absolutely wrecked, a complete mess standing in front of Bones. Small like a kid, and in a lot of ways, Leonard thinks, maybe he still is. Maybe there’s a good reason why it hasn’t worked out. Why faking it is the only viable option to get the best out of their relationship.

And to think that not that long ago they were still dancing to the music playing out across the yard. “I can’t do this right now,” Jim says, and pushes past Bones to leave the porch. Bones reaches out, but misses—and disappears into the crowd of people.

Fuck.

Bones doesn’t see him for the rest of the night. He does, though, get caught between bride and groom half an hour later, searching through the remaining party for Jim. He can’t find him.

By the time he reaches the couple, they’re trashed—and endlessly sympathetic to his issue.

“You mean you lost him?”

“We had an argument,” Bones says, tight lipped, when pressed for details. Neither bride nor groom seem very pleased, but Bones doesn’t even need an answer from them. Not five minutes go by before Bones’ phone buzzes in his pocket. He excuses himself, aware of the eyes on him as he steps away and looks down at his phone.

got a cab back to town, I’ll get a rental from there and head home. left the keys under the driver’s seat. I’ll see you at work.

“Asshole,” Leonard mutters. His fingers shake as he responds.

Thanks for leaving me with a bunch of strangers, jackass. Real mature, Jim.

I can’t talk about this, Bones. Next week.

This time, Bones doesn’t hesitate.

You’re a coward, he types. Then, Monday night.

He says goodnight to the couple, apologizes for the fact that Jim’s feeling too ill from indulging himself to come back from the car, and drives home, thinking that Jim’s an asshole all the way.

But Jim avoids him.

Jim avoids him for so long, that Bones wonders if he’s content with losing him. He’s real good at it, too. All smiles and gentle flirting in front of their coworkers - who definitely know that they’re together, though now that the agreement seems to be over, it’s all the more embarrassing to fake it - and professional calls and moments in the hallway that might seem romantic to anyone walking past.

Bones is determined, though. Absolutely sure that he can find a way to corner Jim— at the exit of the cafeteria, so Jim has to go by him if he stops for lunch. In the parking garage, Bones parks Jim’s car next to the rental he’s seen him arriving in. Makes special trips down to the pharmacy to drop off papers instead of sending them over email.

And still, Bones misses him. For weeks. To the point that he’s seriously considering driving Jim’s car back to Jim’s house, tossing the keys under the driver’s seat, and calling it.

And then, the Facebook invites come in. And Bones is well fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more to go!! thank you so much for all your kind comments. you guys have really, really made me more interested in writing in general :')


	5. Chapter 5

“Leo, my boy,” his grandmother says over the phone, after Bones has let the invite sit in his notifications for a week. Three words in, and Leonard’s already guilty about it. “The anniversary is next weekend. Do not tell me that you won’t be there—“

“I’ll be there,” he says, quickly, so there’s no mistake. He thinks, for a minute, about asking Jim—in a moment of panic before he remembers that they’re not exactly on speaking terms, right now. It doesn’t affect him, now. They’re not really together. If Leonard shows up back home without him, it’s not like anyone would be disappointed. Or even would know that he’d been seeing anyone. He usually shows up alone. “Can’t wait,” he says.

“Good. And please tell me that kind boy you’re seeing will be coming, too?”

Leonard fists his hand and presses it against his eye until he sees colors. “How do you know about Jim?” Bones asks, but answers his own question. “Of course. Facebook friends.”

“He really is such a ray of sunshine, Leo. He seems to suit you.”

Leonard doesn’t respond to that. Pulls his hand away from his eye and says, “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Do I sense trouble on the horizon?” she asks.

“Nope,” Leonard says, because he’s not getting into this again, not with her. Not now. “I’ll call you back about Jim.”

He leaves five hours after his shift was supposed to end that night. He keeps extra clothes in his office for nights like these—but he’s really looking forward to a shower and a nap.

Bones loves his job, in spite of it, and wouldn’t give it up, shitty hours or no. But if he sees another stack of paperwork on his desk, or another child coming in with injuries from school, or abusive, he’s going to lose it. And it’s been weeks since he last spoke with Jim, so it’s not as if he’s been getting stress relief from anywhere.

Just his luck, the night he most wants to just go home, Jim’s standing at his car when Bones makes it out to the garage that morning.

“Hey.”

He stops midstep, tries to recover just as quickly. Pulls his car key from the rest, and looks up at Jim, trying for something akin to casual. He’s thinned out, and his pants hag on his hips—he hasn’t been eating. There are bags under his eyes, too, so he hasn’t been sleeping, either. Bones very nearly manages to hold off the lecture, but he feels heavy with worry and can’t quite keep it from passing his lips.

“Haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“I—No.”

“Or eating? God, Jim, you have to—“

“Can we talk?” He sounds so small. The dark circles under his eyes make him look older, but his arms are crossed over his torso, his shoulders slumped, and he’s wearing clothes that are too big for him, now. He looks so young, it’s jarring.

“Oh, of course,” Bones says. “Anything for you, Jim. Any time you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

Jim loses his eyes. “Okay, I get it. I was an ass. I panicked.”

Bones snorts. “Because of me?”

Clenching his jaw, Jim looks down to the ground. Bones almost thinks about leaving, but where would that put them? “I got a little too into the relationship, and it wasn’t real, and I think I misled you into thinking that maybe it could be.”

“Don’t—“

“And, just, if we can cool it off a little? Go back to the way we were before, before I screwed everything up?”

Bones wonders, then, what that’s supposed to mean. Before they lost their friendship in the lies, or before Bones realized he was in love? “Amicable break-up?” he finally asks, taking pity on Jim, who stands in the middle of the parking garage fidgeting.

He sighs, obviously relieved. “Amicable break-up.”

If Bones were a different man, he might use the moment to kiss, to ask Jim out—but he’s just himself, and the thought of just having Jim, again, is too much to bear, so he swallows that down and stays true to himself. “Glad to have you back again.”

Jim offers him a shaky smile, and gestures to his car. “Can I get a ride?”

——-

Ordinarily, Bones isn’t ashamed of admitting break-ups. But when the break-up was staged, the relationship too, and Bones has to lie to his grandmother because of a lie to begin with, he hesitates.

“I haven’t asked,” he says, the Friday before he’s due at the house for the anniversary. Jim’s right there, perched on the edge of Bones’ desk eating a sandwich, while Bones pinches the bridge of his nose and keeps lying. “Yes, I’ll talk to him tonight. Yes, I’ll have him RSVP. I love you, too.” He hangs up, definitely not ready to talk to Jim. Definitely not ready to ask him to do one more favor. Definitely not ready to suggest they really put their friendship through the ringer.

He loves Jim. If that means that Leonard has to act like an emotionally stunted bastard for a while while Jim tries to forget about the fact they fooled around, he can handle that.

“New girlfriend?” Jim asks, as casual as he can be when Leonard knows he hopes that’s not the case. Jim’s got the words all right, but the body language all wrong.

“Like I have time for a girlfriend,” Leonard grumbles, then rubs at his eyes. “My grandmother. My grandparents are celebrating their anniversary. Promised last year I’d finally make it down for one.”

“Oh, right!” Jim snaps his fingers. “I saw that on Facebook. She, uh…” He coughs. “Invited me.”

Maybe this won’t be so difficult, then. Bones raises his eyebrow. “You’re Facebook friends.”

Jim waves his hand with the sandwich in the air, like it’s supposed to mean something. “Everyone’s Facebook friends!” He sighs. “Okay, fine. I started thinking if we were going to sell it, we might have to make some, um… social media adjustments.”

“So you took it upon yourself to tell my grandmother we were dating.”

To his credit, he at least has the decency to look ashamed. “I—yeah. Sorry.”

“Didn’t occur to you I might not have been as forthcoming about my relationships with my grandmother?”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t screw anything up, did I?”

Bones rolls his eyes. “Of course not. Good lord, Jim, I’m just saying you shouldn’t assume. I’m a grown man, I can handle my grandmother.”

“Right. Oh.”

Moment of truth, though, so Bones bucks up and asks, “I need you to come with, Jim.”

Bastard starts digging his heels in right away. “Oh, like, for moral support? No problem.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He sets his sandwich down, reaches for his water, and very carefully avoids any and all eye contact with Bones. After a moment, he glances up, very quickly, and smiles. “‘Course, Bones. Anything for you.” He stands, pats Bones on the shoulder, and leaves, dumping the rest of his lunch in the garbage on the way out.

Something’s different, and Bones can’t quite figure out what that is. Not on Jim’s end, because Leonard’s been different for a long time, now; but he hasn’t let that interfere. Jim’s more important than whatever heartbreak he’s going through. He loves Jim; he’s not going to let him suffer because he’s feeling a little brokenhearted.

Jim doesn’t listen to music on the way to Bones’ grandparents, even though they rent a car this time. He scribbles in a notepad the whole way there. Bones figures he’ll come back when he’s ready.

He introduces himself as ‘Bones’ boyfriend’, and acts all sorts of normal around Bones’ family. He keeps in close contact with Bones when they’re near each other, pressed against his side, or an arm around his waist. Very carefully romantic. But keeps his lips to himself.

Jim’s sitting at the table, playing chess with one of Leonard’s cousins when it really hits him. He’s known it, deep down, for a while. It’s hard not to when you have to play doting boyfriend to the man you’re in love with anytime a social event comes up. You play the part long enough, and you start recognizing when you want to keep playing that part.

Leonard swallows, crossing his arms. Really looks at Jim. With his bright eyes, lit up with laughter at whatever joke he’s telling, and Bones heart aches, heavy in his chest.

It’s not about whether Jim will return it. He’s kind enough if he doesn’t that it won’t affect them. Leonard is more worried about whether he’ll fuck it up if Jim thinks they can go for it. How much more of a strain their relationship can handle before it fractures.

Someone’s hand touches his elbow; when he turns around, his grandmother’s standing there, smiling slightly. “Leonard,” she says, stepping beside him. She tugs his arm down enough to loop hers into his. “Delightful afternoon, isn’t it?”

Leonard grunts his agreement, turning his attention back to Jim. What would he tell Jim, anyway, if he could find the words? He’s been in love with him for—how long? That he’d like to take this lie and make it real? To really try something? That when he sees himself as an old man, sitting on his porch after retirement, Jim’s sitting next to him?

Jim waves to him, then, across the yard. Leonard can’t move to wave back. His grandmother notices, though, and nudges Leonard in the side. “Trouble in paradise, Leo?”

“You could say that.”

She leans her head against his shoulder and sighs. “I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day,” she says. “And you came! You and that wonderful boy… He’s so full of life, isn’t he?” She pauses, then adds, in an almost sad tone, “What must have happened to him as a child…”

Leonard doesn’t say anything. That’s Jim’s to share, and Leonard already feels bad enough about learning without Jim’s explicit consent. It wasn’t a matter of choice, whether the words came from Jim’s lips or not. He’d been forced into telling or creating awkward tension. Bones still wishes he didn’t know, for Jim’s sake.

“Do you know,” she says, after a quiet moment, “what I think, my Leo?” When he refrains from answering, she says, “I think you need to tell the boy how you really feel.” That gets him to turn his gaze towards her, anyway. They’re good at this; he thought they were, anyway. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You can’t fool a grandmother.”

“We fooled Jocelyn’s,” Leonard says.

“I’ve known you your entire life. She knew you a few years. You get over there, and you tell that boy how you’re feeling before one of you gets hurt.”

She kisses his cheek, then, and leaves. Probably to find Leonard’s grandfather, start packing. Leonard watches her leave, puzzled expression on his face, before he turns to look towards Jim again.

Just tell him. As though it were that easy.

——-

Like he does with all affairs of the heart that might actually make him happy, Leonard does his best to avoid Jim the rest of the night. Finding excuses to duck away from kisses, to pull out of an embrace. But Jim’s smart, and catches on quickly. Jim’s also a stubborn ass, so it only makes him try it harder—which means that Leonard has to start kissing him, trying to ignore the ache whenever he does.

The next four hours are hell, and by the time his grandparents and their guests leave, leaving the two of them to close up, double check all the windows and go to bed, Jim’s on high alert.

It’s just that Leonard doesn’t expect him to say anything about it, which makes Jim’s, “I’m gonna call a car,” when they’re alone in the house, finally, all the more surprising.

“What? It’s one in the morning.”

Jim looks incredibly uncomfortable, though, waves his hand in the air. “I know, just—you seem pissed, and I kind of feel like I need to go, you know.” Something hangs in the air between them, and Jim won’t meet his eyes. Like he’s ashamed, of something. Of Leonard, maybe, but Leonard dismisses that idea as soon as he thinks of it. Jim’s not big on pity, and he sure as hell wouldn’t pity Leonard. “So—I’ll just see you at work.”

Leonard watches him grab his stuff together, his back a stiff line as he bends to gather the clothes on the floor and stuff them into his bag. Just talk to him, he hears his grandmother say. But the words don’t come out.

“Look,” he says, after a minute, “it’s just us here. You can take the bed, I’ll go sleep on the couch.” He sighs. “Don’t make me stay here alone, worried about you gettin’ home safe. I won’t seep a wink.”

Finally, Jim does look at him—but his expression’s all wrong, like he’s gauging whether Leonard really means that or not. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know if anything I think is a good idea. But I want you to stay.”

There’s a long, tense moment, not like this whole situation isn’t, and Jim finally lets his shoulders slump. Starts shaking his head, just a little, barely noticeable, and says, “Bones,” in a voice that rips through Leonard’s chest like ice. “Can we not do this?”

They’re not doing anything, which, maybe, is part of the problem. That something fragile between them that Leonard’s been feeling for a while’s cracking—and he can’t do a damn thing about it. “Yeah. Yeah, all right. ‘Night, Jim.”

He grabs the extra pillow, the blanket sitting on the trunk by the door, and closes the door behind him.

In another universe, he thinks as he makes his bed on the couch, he’d had the balls to say something, maybe. In another universe, maybe Jim did. In another, even farther removed, maybe this never happened. He can think of a thousand worlds, a thousand Jim-and-Bones’, and almost all of them feel better than this one.

Jim doesn't leave, but he doesn’t come out of the room, either, and Leonard spends the night waking at every little noise he hears, disappointed every time it doesn’t turn into Jim’s weight settling on the couch by his feet.

Leonard’s neck is stiff in the morning when they head out back home. The tension between him and Jim doesn’t exactly help. Jim takes a separate cab from the airport, and leaves Leonard to his thoughts.

——-

“Trouble in paradise?” Uhura asks as Leonard passes her in the hall. Leonard’s grateful to see a friendly face; Jim’s been avoiding him, and Leonard’s been avoiding everyone else. “I talked to Kirk.”

“Yeah?”

She regards him carefully, then nods, just once. “He said the two of you had a fight.”

“Did he now?” Leonard doesn’t offer anything else, mostly out of curiosity for what Jim had told her. He stays quiet until Nyota tells him what he’d said, frowning when it’s surprisingly close to the truth.

“It’s none of my business, and you know my relationship with Jim can be tense, but I wouldn’t lie to you, McCoy.” Her face goes tough, no-nonsense, and she straightens her back, staring him down until he feels small. “I’ve never seen you happier. You’re going to fix this.”

He thanks her, frowning. He’s been happy? Playing pretend with Jim has been nothing but a burden, one he can’t deny, but a burden nonetheless. He’s not sleeping as much, he spends less time relaxing and more time out with Jim, acting. Maybe that’s what she’s seeing—that acting. That bullshit that he and Jim have been playing with for months.

But it’s hard to shake her words. They’ve been home a week, now, and already Leonard’s getting tired of sitting at home, alone, day after day. Waiting for Jim to talk him into another event, another reason to get dressed up and hang off of Jim’s arm.

He wants, but. What he wants hardly matters. What he wants has always been overshadowed; and he’s all right with that, in a sense, because forgoing what he wants makes it easier for everyone else.

Leonard's a stubborn old bastard, but even he recognizes defeat when he sees it. He detours to the pharmacy on his trip back to his office, and stops by Jim's window. Jim's all smiles and professionalism, and Leonard's chest feels warm, pleased at the sight of him. But the smile on Jim's face, easy and genuine, falters and falls when he sees Leonard--until Jim forces it back.

"Bones, hey," he says. "You look exhausted."

"Not a lot of sleep," he says. "You think you can help me out with something tonight? Not long. Gotta make an appearance at an event. I'd like to have you there."

Jim's hesitating, though. He's going to say no--Bones can't let him. Not this time. "Last time, kid."

That seems to hurt, too. Leonard can't get away from that, apparently. Always the wrong words lately.

"All right," Jim says. Nothing if not loyal when it counts. If Bones screws this up, though, it could easily be the last of their friendship.

That night, after Bones gets off shift--early morning, really, but Leonard won't be technical--Jim follows him home. He looks tired, too, bags under his eyes. Bones turns to him when he steps inside. "You sleeping?"

Jim cracks a smile. "I've slept better."

"Me, too." He waits, then--hoping Jim'll open up to him about it, but he doesn't say anything. "Look, Jim--"

"We gotta call this off, Bones." He gestures between them. "It's not working."

"What isn't working?"

"Fake dating? Come on."

"It was your idea!"

"All right, so I did something stupid again—you’ll never let me live it down. But I can't keep doing this with you."

"So, who are you gonna do it with? Plenty of reasons to need a date. Chapel's gettin' married this fall. Scotty's parties, graduations. Work events." Bones can't imagine Jim bringing his other work best friend, the guy that works days That Bones only knows as 'Spock', as his date, though he's been wrong before. Jim hardly even talks about him.

"So I go solo," he says, with a shrug. "Not a big deal."

But it is. Leonard steps closer; Jim steps away. Slowly, turning around so he can back away without making it obvious. "You're really gonna keep beating around the bush, aren't you?"

Jim sends him a glance, cocking his head. "What bush?"

"You and me."

There's a laugh, then, unlike any of the laughs Bones has heard from him. Dry, serious. Hollow. "What us?"

Is it even salvageable, Leonard wonders. If Jim thinks this lowly of him--or of himself? "I know I'm not imagining this," Leonard finally says, dropping his arms to his side. "So we can either fuck this up, mangle it into something we're both gonna regret, or we can do something about it." He steels his jaw, waiting for Jim to shut him down, deny it. Where that would leave them, Leonard's got no clue. But it's better than missing Jim. It's gotta be.

Jim, the guy who dusted Leonard off after the divorce, picked him up out of the mud, and declared him 'still good,' who comes from a hell of a broken home himself, a child of a messy divorce versed in the ways a bad break-up can make you a shell; who still laughs and jokes and feels comfortable around Leonard; who speaks up about overpriced meds, and the drug problem in the city, the real one; who sees, after Bones has patched them back up, the hell these people go through and still manages to get them leaving with a smile.

Who spent six months playing Bones' boyfriend because they're friends, and he loves Leonard.

Jim, all of that and more, stands in Leonard's house, looking out of the corner of his eye , away from Bones. Looking small, holding himself so he takes up the least space he can, and his voice is off, fragile when he says, "I don't know if I can."

Leonard's no stranger to love, or heartbreak; he's known the love of his life, he thought, and watched that relationship fall apart. But this is Jim, who has held on through all of Leonard's drunken nights, who has come to Bones when his more unprofessional habits come out to play and he's left bloody at three in the morning and knows better to go anywhere nut but directly to Bones.

But there's few things that compare, in love, Bones thinks, than the way he feels lime his heart shatters at Jim's voice. His lips form the word on their own, "Darlin'" coming off like it was meant to. "Look at me, Jim."

And Jim does. No question, like he hears the strain in Bones’ voice and can’t keep himself from it. Sounds miserable when he says, “I can’t lose you—“ and looks angry for letting the words out.

“You won’t,” Bones tells him. “You’re not.”

But Jim laughs, dry and harsh. “Yeah. Right. I’m not—good, Bones, at relationships. At—long term, or playing the doting boyfriend with the big, adoring eyes and remembering anniversaries.” As though that’s all it is. Like Bones is looking at him, asking for Jim to change the entire way he looks at life.

“You seemed pretty good at it,” Bones tells him. Jim drops his eyes again—starts pacing. “Nothing changes, Jim. Human companionship isn’t something to be afraid of.”

But that doesn’t seem to calm him. Instead, he looks more terrified than ever. “I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

“Jim,” Bones tells him. He doesn’t step forward, but pitches his voice lower so it sounds soft, even if he knows his words will come out wrong. “Don’t make it out to be harder than it is.”

“How can I not?”

“We just spent the last eight months telling people we were in love, Jim. Now it’s turning into something real, something we can fuck up, you want to bail?”

Jim screws his eyes shut, throws his head back and sighs, loud. “No. Hell no. Just.”

Bones finally does step forward, then, closing in on Jim. Surprisingly, Jim doesn’t move, just squares his shoulders like he’s facing this head-on, for once. Bones leans forward, presses his lips to Jim’s, rests a palm against the back of Jim's neck. Pulls back and kisses Jim’s neck, waits for his knees to go weak and he slumps against Bones. Whispers against Jim’s neck whatever he can think of that might help.

“I can’t—“ Jim’s stuttering, lost in his own words, so Bones leads him to the couch and sits him down. “You’re important to me. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Like it’s that easy.”

“It could be.”

Jim looks at him for a while, really looks at him—holds him at arm’s length with his eyes alone, and says, “You’re not scared.”

Is he—Bones thinks that’s gotta be the real question, here. Not at the heart of it; it’s Jim, and Bones can read him better than he can read anyone else. Over the past eight months, they’ve gotten close. Real close. Bones has learned more about him than he’s learned about another human in a long time. He’s been staring down the edge of this decision for a long time, weighing it all. But they can’t come back from this; it is, or it isn't, and if he could lose Jim because of it...

“I think,” Bones says, “that once we get our minds set to something, it’s pretty damn hard to take that away.”

Jim laughs, finally, nods and reaches out with his hand tentatively. “Stubborn asshole.”

“Pot calling the kettle,” Bones says, and leans forward to kiss him.

——-

The next wedding they go to is Spock and Uhura’s, six months later. Bones’ hands shake when he writes Jim’s name in the +1 space, but Jim doesn’t bail. Jim still invites himself to Bones’ apartment—decorated, now, with paintings and photos and ridiculous plants Jim can’t even pronounce the name of correctly—and sleeps in his bed and curls close on cool nights—and closer on warm ones.

Jim stands next to Spock at the alter, grinning wide and bouncing on his heels. Dances with Bones at the reception, bodies pressed close. Introduces Bones as ‘my better half’. Bones watches him with dopey-eyed looks whenever he says it, even as he furrows his brow and grumbles about it. Appearances to keep up.

And Jim stays. So Bones does, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE ALL OF YOU YOU ARE ALL PERFECT CREATURES TOO GOOD FOR ME
> 
> thanks so much for commenting and kudosing and everything else you guys did and you are. just so good to me. since I started posting this I've really, really been more interested in writing again because you're all incredible and just !! thanks for making my reintroduction into posting my work online as positive as it could be :') thanks for riding this ride with me again
> 
> come say hi to me on tumblr sometime! hesmybones is where you can find me!


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